


A Doggy of my Own (draft)

by ract46



Series: WERES AU [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Cages, Chastity Device, Collars, Humans are not nice, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Oral Sex, Paddling, Puppy Play, Scent Marking, Shaving, Spanking, owner!Stiles - Freeform, pet!Derek, piss drinking, slave!Derek, sterek, talk of castration, talk of penectomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ract46/pseuds/ract46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had wanted one for the longest, the longest time. He had already passed the assessment at the <strong>W</strong>erewolf <strong>E</strong>nslavement <strong>R</strong>egulations <strong>E</strong>nforcement <strong>S</strong>ervices. And okay, so maybe partly he wanted one because Lydia Martin hadn’t got one yet; well she had set her sights on buying Jackson, but Danny got there first and bought him from the Argents’ pet store.  Lydia was pissed off, and she made sure everyone knew it.  Not that Danny cared; he had Jackson, collared and on a short lead.</p><p>August-10th: minor update to chapters 9 and 10<br/>September-08th: minor update to chapter 8</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm writing the other stories I am working on I need to stop reading. It gives me ideas in my head that won't stop until I've written them down. This is one of them; it was inspired by my reading some of the stories in [PET Verse](/series/32251) by [Tipsy_Kitty](/users/Tipsy_Kitty/pseuds/Tipsy_Kitty)

Stiles had wanted one for the longest, _the longest_ time. Okay, so maybe partly he wanted one because Lydia Martin hadn’t got one yet; well she had set her sights on buying Jackson, but Danny got there first and bought him from the Argents’ pet store. Lydia was pissed off, and she made sure everyone knew it. Not that Danny cared; he had Jackson, collared and on a short lead.

The Argents ran most of the werewolf pet stores in the country and the only one in Beacon Hills. Their hunters would round up any rogue weres that were loose in the area; they trained them then sold them in the stores. Gerard Argent was one of the first to set up the werewolf pet stores after the bill was passed making it legal to keep weres as slave-pets. Sure there had been a bit of controversy when the bill was making its way through the houses; but it passed, because other animals are kept as pets or used to work, like draft horses and stuff, _and werewolves are just another type of animal_.

The **_W_** erewolf **_E_** nslavement **_R_** egulations **_E_** nforcement **_S_** ervices Department was established the same year that the bill was enacted to ensure that the weres were treated within the provisions of the law governing the selling and ownership of a werewolf slave-pet.

There were rules around the selling of werewolves, **_no Alpha could be sold_** to members of the public, only Betas can be bought as slave-pets, and **_the werewolf had to be sixteen or older_** ; until then they were held in gated compounds surrounded by mountain ash fences.

There were also rules about who could and couldn’t own a werewolf, **_you needed to pass psychological evaluation_** to ensure that you could dominate and effectively be their Alpha; **_you also needed to pass an exam on the training, and husbandry of a pet werewolf_**. Both Stiles and Scott had gone to the local WERES offices and passed the evaluation and exam when they took it at the start of freshman year; the earliest you could take the exams.

It sucked, _majorly sucked_ , and in no-way was good sucking involved, when Scott got bit by a rogue were last year. His mom cried for weeks when the Argents’ hunters informed her; and later when they gave her the cheque for her share of the proceeds from his sale.

Stiles had asked his dad to buy Scott for him; Scott was his best friend, his only friend, and Stiles didn’t want to lose him. His dad didn’t, instead explaining how it was a bad idea as he would still treat Scott like his friend and how that wouldn’t be good for either him or Scott. Stiles wondered how Scott could be an animal now and hadn’t been before; _but he was a werewolf now so it must be true, right?_

Chris Argent actually bought Scott, for his daughter Allison; and Scott seemed happy enough when Stiles saw him wander behind Allison at school, carrying her books and stuff. Stiles assumes he’s happy, it’s not like they talk or anything. Stiles has heard Scott answer when Allison asks him if he understood her orders for him; barking once for yes and twice for no, just like every other werewolf.

Stiles dad couldn’t have afforded to buy Scott then anyway; the price of a well-trained werewolf slave-pet is high, very high; so high in-fact that Stiles is wondering what the hell is wrong with the one he’s currently looking at that his dad could just afford to buy him, and not need to take out a finance deal for the balance.

Because seriously Stiles cannot see anything, _anything at all_ , that is wrong with him; okay maybe he could lose the scowl, though it does make him look sexy. He has that whole bad-boy pout and the most amazing electric-blue eyes. Way hotter than Danny’s Jackson.

Not only that he’s a born-wolf, like Jackson turned out to be; gawd were his adoptive parents surprised by that one, maybe scandalised and totally freaked is nearer the truth. Born-wolves always cost more than bitten ones like Scott; _so why is the price of this one something his dad can just afford to buy him?_

Stiles looks down the rows of cages on either side of the room; every other cage contains a bitten, their price around the same as, or for the decent looking ones slightly higher than, this born slave-pet. The bitten are obviously tamed and housetrained; Stiles can see it in their eyes, _the same lost, broken, look that Scott has_.

Kate Argent is saying something about him not being for sale, but there is a price right there on his cage; a price that Stiles dad can afford to pay, to buy him for Stiles’ seventeenth birthday present.

Chris Argent comes down into the basement where the weres are caged; Kate would have sliced him open with the daggers her look sent when he says of course he’s for sale, though he does warn them that Derek is not fully trained; and that he can be rebellious.

Stiles dad asks him if he’s sure this is the one he wants. Stiles is sure; **_he wants Derek_** ; and since Stiles’ mom died his dad has always bought him what he wanted, if he could afford it. His dad isn’t really in favour of getting him a were-pet; his mom was killed by a rogue alpha. It was the second time she had been attacked by one; the first time she was pregnant with Stiles, the alpha was injured and struck out at her with its claws. The second time she was bitten; well, really she was eaten, there wasn’t enough left for the bite to turn her. Thankfully.

Chris shows Stiles how to operate the shock collar; he talks him through some basic training techniques, grooming, exercise and feeding requirements. They’ll deliver him tomorrow; with his tracking chip embedded under the skin beneath his collar.

At home they rearrange Stiles’ bedroom; raising the bed onto a platform five feet off the floor so that Derek’s cage will fit underneath. The cage is the same footprint as the bed, five foot by six foot. Stiles is stoked, so stoked he can’t sleep that night; he’s getting a werewolf slave-pet of his very own. _Lydia Martin still doesn’t have one; maybe now she’ll notice Stiles_.

\---

Derek is still asleep in his cage under Stiles’ bed; he has been since they delivered him. Chris explained that they sedate them for transport to keep them calm when being delivered to their new owners. Stiles’ dad signed the delivery note before heading to work, telling Stiles to keep Derek in his cage until he got back from work.

Stiles admired the sight of Derek in the cage; lying sprawled naked on his front, his head on the potty training pad and he has a foot in the empty food bowl. _Stiles had seen that each of the cages in the Argents’ store had the training pads, some needing changed, and decided that would be the easiest solution for him to clean out his slave-pets’ cage_. Derek’s hands are locked in the puppy mitts, his back and ass like something on a Greek God or statue. Stiles hadn’t noticed the tattoo before, the spiral covering Derek’s upper back. He tears himself away from his pet and goes back to surfing the net; looking at werewolf owner sites, researching the same things he has since werewolf ownership became legal. And watching some werewolf porn.

“Where am I?” The scratchy voice coming from behind Stiles is a little hoarse; Chris has said it was a side-effect of the sedatives; that he’d need plenty of water when he woke up.

“Do you need a drink?” Stiles asks as he turns to face his pet.

“Yes.” Derek frowns as he replies. Stiles know he has to start correctly; all the werewolf owners in the forums agree, _be loving, be strict, and above all else be consistent_. He zaps the collar; he sees Derek’s face contort in pain as he spasms in the cage as the current passes through him.

“I know you’ve had some training,” Stiles says calmly, well he hopes calmly; the twitch in his pants was unexpected, “so answer correctly, do you need a drink?”

“Just let me go, they’ll think you were overpowered, you...” Derek doesn’t finish as Stiles zaps him again, the current slightly stronger than previously.

“ ** _Shut up!_** “ Stiles snaps at him; Derek scowls in response, “I think I should change your name to _Sourwolf_ the way you pout and scowl.”

Derek stays quiet, watching Stiles.

“One bark for yes, two for no,” Stiles crouches down outside Derek’s cage, “understand?”

“ **WOOF, WOOF** “ Derek replies, more of a growl than a bark; but it’s a start Stiles thinks, even if it is the wrong answer.

“Training you is going to be fun Sourwolf.” Stiles grins as he shocks the collar again; he has the weekend to spend bringing Derek to heel. Stiles is sure that his pet can smell the arousal seeping through his pants and into the air in his cage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's POV

Derek knows why the Argents keep him in the cage in the ‘stockroom’ with the other weres, the bitten wolves they plan to sell; just knowing that there is a born wolf in stock will bring in more customers.

So, he’s here on display with the others even though Kate wouldn’t sell him, not when she can continue to have so much fun torturing him. There were times he wished she would go far enough to kill him, _but he_ ** _didn’t_ _deserve_** _to be put out of his misery; not after what he had done_.

He still can remember the taunting from Kate over how the capture of his family had only been possible because of him; the information she gleaned from him during the times they were together, when he thought she cared for, maybe even loved, him. What a **_fool_** he had been.

He still has dreams about the night of the raid; when the Argent’s hunters came for them.

The sudden darkness as the lights went out; quickly followed by the crashing sound of the splintering glass as the smoke canisters smashed through the windows of very room in the house. The smell of fear, of panic and worry as everyone scrambled and ran in the darkness to make it to the tunnels; the screams and cries of the children, his younger cousins and siblings as the sound of shots being fired and bullets thudded into walls _and people_. The hunters weren’t out to kill anyone; that would hit their profit from the capture, so the bullets and crossbow bolts weren’t packed or coated with wolfsbane. But not everyone in the house was a werewolf; some of the visiting aunts, uncles and cousins were human.

In the tunnels they found themselves trapped, the hunters were waiting at the tunnel exits for them. The hunters _knew_ about the tunnels because _Kate had told them_ ; because Derek had told Kate about the tunnels showing how _smart_ he was to sneak out through them to meet her without his parents hearing or seeing him.

He had been going to tell her that he was a were, he was sure that he loved her and that she could love him; that she would keep his secret and keep him safe, **_stupid, stupid little boy_**. The smirk and derision written all over her face when she saw him in the cage when he was taken for processing.

He hasn’t seen them or heard anything about his family since that night. He knows that at least three of them are dead, he overheard some of the hunters talk about ‘one were and two humans downed’; he knows that his father wouldn’t be sold to a household, he wasn’t sure what happened to Alphas that were captured. His human aunts and uncles would have been prosecuted by WERES for ‘ _keeping unlicensed slave-pets_ ‘ and for ‘ _keeping under-aged slave-pets_ ‘.

That night, having found out that Kate had used him that he was responsible for his family’s capture that was the last time he cried. He would never give the humans the satisfaction again.

He, having just turned sixteen, like his sister Laura, his mom and every other beta would be processed and sent to one of the Argent’s facilities to be ‘ _tamed_ ‘ and ‘ _housetrained_ ‘ for sale.

Only he wasn’t sold; and now nearly six years later he still hasn’t been sold.

They tried to use him in their breeding program; the Argents being one of only two companies that have been granted a license to ‘ _breed_ ‘ werewolves for sale, born wolves are becoming rare. But Derek already knew he was never gonna get a female beta pregnant. The humans tried using artificial insemination, that didn’t work. They examined him, prodded him and tested him until they ran out of ideas. They are still trying to figure out how the werewolf sexual dynamics work; Alphas, betas and omegas. During all the testing the Argents did on him he never went into heat, so they were convinced he was a _defective_ beta.

So, Kate was allowed to amuse herself with him. Derek’s instinct, that part of him that is wolf, has never trusted Kate; he didn’t listen to his instincts, instead he went with his hormones and it cost him his family. He has spent the last six years of his life not submitting to the Argents, _to Kate_. He won’t allow them to tame and train him; he won’t submit. Derek and his instincts are finally in agreement; mostly. There is that part of him that needs an alpha to follow, to submit to; _but it won’t be Kate, it won’t be a human, ever_.

Derek looks out between the bars of his cage; this section of the basement has twenty-four cages in it; each cage is two and half feet off the ground, there is shelving under the cages with supplies, the training pads they put in the cages for them to use, the food they feed them. The cages themselves are five by five by five; one naked wolf per cage. Only males are in this section. The females are kept in another stockroom, Derek assumes they are kept naked too.

He can’t read the sign that Chris Argent has fixed to his cage, he can see the other cages a fixed with details of the werewolf for sale; age, training, price, and level of pass on the psychological evaluation required to control the ‘ _pet_ ‘.

He can’t imagine what his would say if they were selling him; he can only assume that the sign affixed to his cage says ‘ ** _Not For Sale_** ‘.

Chris goes round each of the cages checking the water bottles attached to the side of the bars; the spout sticks into the cages between the bars for the ‘ _pets_ ‘ inside to suckle on to quench their thirst.

He then fills the bowls in each cage with the _specially formulated_ werewolf ‘ _kibble_ ‘; Derek doesn’t like the dry food, it leaves him feeling a little fuzzy headed after, but it’s all they are given to eat.

It’s the scent that Derek notices first; it pulls his attention, pulls him from his hazy thoughts. He shakes his head, clearing the wooliness. He sees the other wolves pace at the edge of their cages; the scent must belong to a potential _owner_ , there were no new wolves brought in before Argents opened. But it can’t be a potential owner; there is something familiar in the scent, something that says _safety_ and _home_.

The scent grows stronger as the boy walks to the back of the store, to Derek’s cage; he can’t be here to buy, he can’t be, but he’s dressed, he has no collar around his neck and he’s appraising the wolves in the cages. The scent surrounds Derek, clings to the air around him; fills him with fear. Then the boys’ eyes lock on Derek, and Derek can feel his heart **_thudding_** in his chest.

He hears Kate saying there has been some kind of mistake made; this pet isn’t for sale. The boy, _Stiles_ the older man with the boy seems to call him, points to Derek’s cage, to the sign fixed to the bars and says, “There is a price _right there_ , **_not_** a ‘not for sale’ sign ** _, a price_** ; a price we can pay for the slave-pet.”

Kate continues to explain it’s a mistake, telling them ‘it’s untrained’, ‘the price should not have been attached to the cage’. Derek knew she would never allow him to be sold; that now she has her claws in him she will not allow him to escape her clutches.

Kate tries to direct him to the bitten wolves they have, _the ones that she has already broken, tamed and housetrained_ ; but the boy, Stiles continues to argue, this is the slave-pet he wants to buy; he wants to buy him, _he wants to buy Derek_. Kate will never allow it, Derek knows this.

“Of course he is for sale,” Chris walks down the last few steps entering the room, “and the reason he is so cheap is that a defective beta, even born one, isn’t worth as much as some bitten slaves.”

Derek watches from his cage; sees the rage fleetingly flow across her face before she can hide it. Chris is selling him; and Kate can’t stop him.

\---

He blinks his eyes, taking in the scents around him; he doesn’t smell the other wolves, he doesn’t smell the Argents. He jerks his head off the potty training pad, thankful that it’s clean.

“Where am I?” he absently asks, his voice weak and scratchy, his throat dry; then it dawns on him, the scent surrounding him belongs to Stiles. _It belongs to his owner_.

“Do you need a drink?” his owner asks him.

“Yes.” Derek spasms in the cage as the pain passes through his body; his hands can’t open, bound as paws in the mitts.

“I know you’ve had some training,” his owner calmly says, “so answer correctly, do you need a drink?”

He can’t; Derek can’t do as his owner, as Stiles, _he must not think of him as his owner_ , he can’t do as he asks.

“Just let me go, they’ll think you were overpowered, you...” Derek doesn’t finish as the current from the collar, stronger than the last, zaps through him.

“ ** _Shut up!_** “ his owner shouts at him, “I think I should change your name to _Sourwolf_ the way you pout and scowl.”

Derek scowls in response, he stays quiet, watching Stiles.

“One bark for yes, two for no,” his owner crouches down outside Derek’s cage, “understand?”

 **No** Derek doesn’t understand; _how can the scent of safety and home, the scent of his Mate and Alpha, be doing this to him_? _Why does his instinct tell him to submit and do as Stiles tells him_? After six years Derek and his instincts were in disagreement again; Derek had trusted Kate when his instincts said not to, now the trust issues are switched. **_So no_** , **Derek doesn’t understand**.

“ **WOOF, WOOF** “ Derek replies, more of a growl than a bark.

“Training you is going to be fun Sourwolf,” his owner grins as he shocks him with the collar again. Derek can smell Stiles’ arousal seeping through his pants and into the air in his cage; _and feels it stir his desire to submit, to be his slave, his pet_.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek lay in his cage under his owners’ bed; the early morning light beginning to filter through the drawn curtains over the window, the dappled light dancing over his skin. He’s lost in his confusion of thoughts as he waits for his masters’ alarm to ring and their morning routine to begin; starting with his master hitting the snooze button, he hates to get out of his bed. 

Derek still recalls the first morning he had been woken by the alarm; the groan as Stiles hit the snooze and curled back under his duvet. When the alarm rang again, the clock turned out to be one of those motorised ones that moved away from you. It clattered to the floor from five feet up and Stiles tumbled after it in a tangle of sheets and duvet his arms flailing; having clearly forgotten he was sleeping five feet off the ground. Derek panicked thinking he had seriously injured himself, until he hit the alarm clock off and turned to greet him with a “Morning Sourwolf”.

It’s been the same this past week that Derek has been owned by Stiles; not Stiles flailing out of the bed after his alarm clock, but the routine he follows has been recognisably similar all week.

That is one of the confusing things of the past week; that Derek knows it has been a week, and not just through counting the days in his head. Stiles, his owner, allows him to see the calendar, to know the day of the week, the actual date, month and year. When the Argent’s kept him for Kate to play with he had never been allowed to; he was a pet, an animal, and didn’t need to look at calendars, didn’t need to know the date.

Stiles still treats him like his property, his possession, his slave and pet; and Derek knows that _legally_ he is Stiles’ slave-pet. But everything, _most things_ , are so different to what he had become used to since the hunters captured his family. From that first day when he awoke in this cage it has been different. No, not when he woke in this cage, before then; from when he first caught Stiles’ scent in the Argent’s pet shop, his scent called to him and set him in conflict with his instincts. A conflict he hadn’t known for six years; a conflict that from that first day his instincts have been winning as he accepts Stiles as his alpha, as his owner, his master.

From the first question Stiles had asked him, “Do you need a drink?”

\---

***** The Previous Week *****

Derek knew the rules, he’d had six years of pushing back against them, of ignoring them and breaking them where possible; so he spoke his answer. But Stiles was steely resolute and commanding, not what Derek expected of a young teenager, a boy younger than him and still in high school; everything about his demeanour shouted **_alpha_**. That’s when Derek’s instincts gained control. After the third shock from the collar had passed his owner asked him again; Derek answered with a single bark for yes.

Derek had expected his owner to take the water bottle attached to the cage and fill it with water for him to drink. He didn’t. Derek remembers how he knelt there watching, eyes wide and heart pounding as his owner unbuckled his belt, pulled the zipper of his jeans down. He explained why he was making Derek do this, calmly, steadily, so that Derek would understand.

“I’ve read on the slave-pet owner forums how to help foster loyalty and obedience in your slave-pet you should mix some of your urine with their drinking water; so that they know who their Master, or Mistress, is,” as Stiles spoke he pulled his cock out of his underwear, snagging the waistband under his balls, the scent surrounding Derek intensifies, his mind screaming **_NO_** while his instinct says **_show your submission_**. His owner, Stiles, continues to explain as he walks towards the cage, “but I think why dilute it down, surely if a little mixed in water helps foster that loyalty and obedience, then drinking it straight from the source would demand that loyalty and submission. So, come on Sourwolf, open up and don’t spill any.”

Derek’s mind is horrified, but he can’t stop himself from moving towards Stiles, from opening his mouth and taking Stiles into him, closing his lips around the tube of flesh laying against his tongue and swallowing the bitter liquid; his nose pressed against the wiry hairs across his owners’ pubis, he breathes in the scent that _calms him, calls to him and tells him that his instincts are right_. 

Stiles’ hands grasp the side of his face, his thumbs brushing against Derek’s cheek; a gentle caress in a firm grip.

When Kate’s hands had touched him it left him cold; left him wanting to shirk away from the touch. He leans into Stiles touch, rubbing his cheek against the warmth of his palm.

Derek is startled from his reverie when Stiles pulls himself from his still sucking lips and the grasp of Stiles’ hands leaves his head.

“Well, since you enjoyed that so much we should make that part of our morning ritual, don’t you think,” Derek knows it wasn’t a question for him to answer, but he’s confused about why Stiles is smirking. He follows his owners’ gaze to his own crotch and sees the hardness standing straight out from him; he feels himself burn with embarrassment, it was the touch, and the scent, and that’s all that caused his reaction. He knows he needs to run, to get away from the boy before his compulsion to submit wins out completely.

Stiles opened the cage then.

“My dad said to leave you in the cage until he got home, but I think you’ll be a good boy; won’t you Sourwolf?”

This could be his chance, except he still has the puppy mitts fastened to his hands, and he’s naked.

“WOOF,” he answered, what else was he going to say; Stiles smiled at him, pleased, “Good boy, now let’s take these off you and go get some lunch.”

Derek couldn’t believe that Stiles was removing the mitts. His instincts to be ‘a good boy’ warred with his fear of submitting to the human as he crawled from the cage. Stiles turned from him and walked to from the room commanding him to ‘ _follow me_ ‘; he heard running water, he looked up from his crouched position and could see that Stiles was washing his hands. Turning his head he saw stairs leading down, a door at the bottom of the stairs leading outside; **_he ran_**.

He came too sprawled out on the floor in front of the door he had been heading for. He shook his head looking around him; he’d barely made it down two steps before the shock hit him, between the pain from the current surging through him and the knock to his head as he tumbled down the remaining stairs he had blacked out.

Stiles was sitting in a chair watching him; the look of disappointment caused his stomach to clench, making him want to crawl across the floor on his stomach to his owner seeking forgiveness. _That’s what good pets do when they know they’ve been bad; lower themselves to the ground in submission to their Master in atonement_.

“I thought you were smarter than that Sourwolf,” the displeasure his owner feels dripping from every word, “ _I know_ that _you know_ that you are wearing the collar, that you have the tracking chip implanted in the back of your neck under the collar; so really, just how far did you expect to get?”

Derek opens his mouth, he doesn’t know why, he doesn’t know what he’d say even if he were allowed.

“ **No words pet** ,” Stiles commands him before he makes a sound, “this is what we are going to do. You are going to crawl over here and place yourself over my knee; then I am going to spank you until my hand is sore, then,” Stiles lifts the paddle Derek hadn’t seen laying on the arm of the chair, “I am going to paddle your ass with this mountain ash paddle with the nice little holes drilled through it.”

He’s not, _absolutely not_ , going to crawl over to Stiles and lay across his lap to allow him to beat him with that paddle. Even as he begins to crawl with his arms stretched out in front, his head down and his ass in the air; he is not going to do submit like this. As he lays himself over Stiles’ lap his head is screaming **_NO_ ;** but his instinct wins out.

Derek is lying across Stiles’ lap; his cock and balls hanging freely between Stiles legs. Stiles holds Derek with one arm wrapped around his chest, his hand resting on Derek’s abdomen as his other hand rises and falls on his ass. The steady cadence the solid **_SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK_** alternating between both globes of his firm ass cheeks.

It’s when his ass starts to smart under the onslaught of Stiles’ unyielding spanking that he feels the stirring; he grasps Stiles’ ankle as the shocked gasp escapes him, looking up under Stiles’ leg to see his own traitorous cock lengthen and firm as Stiles’ hand continues to spank him. He whimpers in distress as it rises, threatening to brush against Stiles’ hand that rests on his abdomen holding him in place; threatens to alert his owner of his unexpected state during his punishment.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles’ voice breaks him out of his thoughts, his hand griping around Derek’s shaft, “you won’t be coming today, though if you are very good then one day I will spank you until you come,” Derek **_knows_** he doesn’t want that, _yet he whimpers as his cock throbs in Stiles’ grasp_ , “and when I start using the paddle on you I am sure your boner will go down.”

Stiles is right; from the first strike of the paddle against his spanked ass Derek’s erection subsides. The rigid ‘ ** _THWACK_** ‘ stinging and merciless against the throbbing ache radiating from his rear. Derek loses count, lost in the constant pain; he begins to struggle against Stiles, only for his limbs to coil around him tighter. He begs, promises to be good, only to be reminded that he was told **_no words_** , that _every word will cost him another twenty_. He is only allowed to use words with Stiles permission.

Later as Derek is curled in Stiles’ lap, Stiles’ scent and the gentle rubbing of his back soothing Derek’s hurt, another morning ritual is added to their routine as Stiles tells him, “I think, Sourwolf, that a morning spanking should help focus you.”

As Stiles makes lunch Derek is tasked with cleaning up after him; when Stiles sits at the table, his plate laden with food, Derek kneels at his side. For every bite of food Stiles takes he feeds Derek the same from his hand.

“You’ll have to have a bowl of that ‘werewolf kibble’ every night otherwise when the WERES agent comes to check on you the blood tests won’t show enough of the stuff in your system. But other than that I’ll be feeding you what I eat; I don’t want you addle-brained on that stuff, I want you smart and clear headed, so you’ll just have to like what I eat.” Derek doesn’t have a problem with that as Stiles’ grease covered fingers slip into his mouth with the piece of sausage; he’s eating real food for the first time in six years, and the less kibble he has to eat the better.

Derek washes up after the plate is cleared.

When Stiles’ dad gets home he grumbles at Stiles for having let Derek out the cage when he wasn’t here, what if Derek had tried _something_. Stiles just replies that everything was fine; he didn’t have any problems.

“Well you could at least cover him some,” his dad gripes, “I don’t want his junk all out on display.”

“Fine, tomorrow before you go to work I’ll run down to Deaton’s and get a cock cage; I’ll leave him in the cage for you to watch until I get back,” is Stiles’ answer.

Stiles and his father watch something on the TV; Derek isn’t really paying attention as he lies curled at Stiles’ feet, trying to make sense of his reactions to his owner as he leans into his scent.

The next morning their routine begins.

Derek can feel the trepidation coil in his stomach as he edges closer to the bars of the cage where Stiles is waiting, cock in hand. He takes Stiles soft shaft into his mouth and Stiles relieves himself; Derek swallowing every drop.

Stiles goes on-line, researching something, while Derek ‘ _goes_ ‘ on the puppy pad in his cage; Stiles then changes the pad and they both go to the bathroom to brush their teeth and shower together.

Derek stands in the spray of water as Stiles washes him, using his own shower gel to wash him; his owners hands massaging the mildly scented gel into his scalp, lathering his hair with its foam, Stiles’ hands lave the gel over his back; one arm snakes around Derek’s chest as the other hand washes down his back and ass, fingers working their way into the cleft of his ass, cleaning him, rubbing over his hole slick with the gel. Derek can’t help himself, Stiles’ scent surrounding him he spreads his legs, pushes back on Stiles’ fingers, his cock filing as he whimpers and then whines as the touch leaves him needing.

“No Sourwolf,” his owner admonishes him, turning Derek round so they are face to face, “you need to be a good pet for that; when you’ve been a good pet I’ll get you off, promise.”

“Did the Argents keep your chest shaved smooth?” Stiles asks as his hand runs over some stubble there.

“WOOF” Derek answers, Stiles hasn’t given him permission to use his words; Stiles has a smile of satisfaction at his obedience, the warmth he feels in his chest from it unsettles him.

“I wonder how you’d look smooth from the neck down,” his owner ponders absently has he rubs the shower gel over Derek’s arms.

They finished drying after their shower and went back into Stiles bedroom; Stiles pulled the chair from his computer desk out and turned it to face into the room. He sat down on it and patted his lap. Derek felt the knot in his stomach tighten as he lay across Stiles’ lap.

Afterwards he kneels beside the chair, his hardness jutting out in front of him, as Stiles dresses for the day in his jeans and red hoodie.

\---

***** Present *****

Derek is startled from his memories by the sound of his masters’ alarm clock; he looks down over his smooth hairless body to the metal encasing his cock and balls wondering if he has been good enough. The cock cage is removed when they shower, so that Stiles can wash him properly. When Stiles is pleased with Derek he jacks him off in the shower; rubbing himself in the crease of Derek’s ass and coating Derek’s lower back with his release as he aims Derek’s spray over Derek's hairless abs and chest. Once they’ve finished showering and are dried Stiles locks the cock cage back around Derek’s cock; _at least it stops him getting hard while Stiles spanks him every morning_.

Their morning routine now included exercise; well for Derek playing fetch. Derek would have the puppy mitts fitted and they’d go to the backyard, Stiles would throw this red rubber ball that Derek would have to run after on all fours, grab it in his mouth and return to Stiles.

Derek hated it, at first.

Then it started to remind him of hunting; and he was running, chasing after the ball like he used to chase rabbit, keeping his eyes on it like it was prey. Once when Stiles threw the ball Derek jumped and caught in mid-air before it landed; he dropped to the ground on all fours, his head down and eyes looking up at Stiles between his out-stretched front paws, _hands_ , daring Stiles to take it from him.

“Oh, you wanna play huh, Sourwolf?” his owner laughed, happy and enjoying Derek’s antics.

Stiles moved towards Derek to take the ball from his mouth, but Derek ran around the yard; Stiles chased after him, they chased after each other around the small yard until it was time for lunch. Derek wished there was more space to run; Stiles says he might take him to the park to play fetch, it would be good to be able to run more than he can in the backyard.

Stiles has also been allowing him to read the DC comics that Stiles owns. He had seen Derek looking at them through the cage one day. Stiles was on-line in one of the WERES forums, Derek hadn’t noticed him turnaround as he had been looking at the comics; he used to have a collection of them himself, before. Stiles went to the shelf and brought down ‘ _Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #190_ ‘; he put it on the desk beside him and called Derek over, Derek knelt there looking at it. Stiles opened it and said ‘ _let me know when you need the page turned_ ‘; Derek had the puppy mitts on, he read the comic, devouring the words and images with his eyes and whimpering when he wanted the pages turned to continue. Maybe he’ll get to read another one in the afternoon.

He also wonders if they’ll have pancakes again for breakfast; Stiles likes pancakes. _Isn’t time for the alarm to go again yet?_ He wants the day to start.

\---

Allison is furious. Scott belongs to her, not to her mother. Her mom had no right to make any such arrangements. She likes Scott just the way he is and doesn’t want any part of him modified.

And really that demonstration as she explained her reasoning. Seriously! Allison can feel her anger rising again as she thinks back over the _conversation_ with her mother.

“Really Allison I don’t think that it is unreasonable for me to be concerned about the damage that the young slave-pet your father has decided to buy you may do to the furniture or you when it gets... over-excited.”

Allison couldn’t truly believe the piqued look on her mother’s face.

“Take the length of this pencil,” her mom continued, what pencils had to do with what they were discussing Allison wasn’t sure, “now with something this long I can do a lot of damage to chair legs, the walls, or even you,” her mom put the pencil in the electric sharpener and pushed, the pencil kept going in and in as it was eaten away by the rotating mechanism inside; when there was virtually nothing left for her to hold she pulled it back, “now something this size, well it’s no threat at all is it.”

“ ** _You want to dock Scott’s cock to an inch long stub?_** “ Allison’s outrage clear in her voice; she is glad that Scott is locked in his cage in her room while they are in the basement, less chance that he will hear any of this.

“Or remove it all together, and his testicles, think how much more relaxed and docile he’ll be,” her mother keeps her tone calm and reasonable, “he’ll be far easier to manage and control. We can have the penectomy and castration done this weekend; then he’ll be all smooth down there. Nothing that could be trapped and easily injure or damage him.”

Allison knows that no matter what she says her mother will do what she wants and thinks is best for Allison; she has to find some way to make her mother change her mind on this, _or circumvent her mother all together_. Scott’s cock and balls are something that Allison likes to use to control her pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Excerpt from Chapter-4**
> 
> Derek is bounding after the red ball; every so often stopping and looking back to make sure that Stiles isn’t too far away from him. It’s only to make sure the collar isn’t going to shock him; it’s not that he’s concerned about being too far from his owner. They are at the park; Derek is running and jumping, stretching further than he was able to in the back yard. _He’s happy._


	4. Chapter 4

Derek is bounding after the red ball; every so often stopping and looking back to make sure that Stiles isn’t too far away from him. It’s only to make sure the collar isn’t going to shock him; _it’s not that he’s concerned about being too far from his owner_. They are at the park; Derek is running and jumping, stretching further than he was able to in the back yard. _He’s happy_.

Derek grabs the ball in his mouth and bounds back to Stiles on all fours; naked except for the collar around his neck, his hands bound in the mitts, and the cage locked around his cock. There are other owners with their naked slave-pets in the park too, playing with balls, running or being walked on a leash. Stiles walked him here on a leash, then took it off to play fetch.

Derek drops the ball at Stiles feet, pleading with his eyes for him to throw it again. Stiles smiles at him as he picks up the ball and throws it again; Derek chase after it, still looking back at his owner every few yards.

He gets to the ball and there is another slave-pet sniffing at it; Derek recognises him. The dark haired boy in the pictures that his owner has hidden in drawers in his room; _the pictures that make his scent sour with sadness and regret_.

Derek can’t stop the low threatening growl that escapes from him; _this wolf makes Stiles sad, he doesn’t like that_. The wolf sniffing at his ball is startled at first but quickly growls back, Derek stands his ground, he won’t back down; this wolf will submit to him not the other way round, he is Stiles’ not this other wolf and Stiles threw that ball for Derek to fetch.

“ ** _Scott, HEEL!_** “ a female voice calls, and Derek catches the scent of an Argent.

“ ** _Sourwolf,_** **SIT** “ Derek sits back on his haunches at Stiles’ command. His eyes don’t leave the other wolf, fixing it with a scowl; the wolf with the Argent grabbing its collar and fastening a leash to it.

Stiles just lay his hand on the back of Derek’s head, he didn’t fix the leash to his collar. Derek couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on his face; clearly the Argent girl thought the other wolf needed restraint, couldn’t be trusted, while his owner trusted him.

“Damn it Scott,” Allison complained at Scott, “we don’t need you acting up proving my mom right.” Stiles could see the concern on her face; she looked like she was about to burst into tears.

“It’s only a ball, if Scott wants to play with Sourwolf’s ball that much its fine,” when his brain caught up to the potential for double-entendre in the words he spoke, “I mean the rubber ball that I throwing to play fetch with Sourwolf.”

“Sourwolf?” Allison said, Stiles wasn’t sure it was an actual question, “It certainly fits the demeanour my Aunt described him having; though I’m sure he had more body hair last time I saw him at the shop.”

“Yeah, I thought I’d see how he looked with it removed from more than just his chest,” Stiles smiled down at his pet, “I think I’m gonna keep him like this. How ‘bout you, planning any modifications to your pet?”

Allison did burst into tears.

\---

Scott was confused.

Really it seemed to be his default state for the last year of his life, at least he thinks it’s only been a year, a little less; it could be less he wasn’t aware of Christmas passing, but he is sure that Allison is going into her Junior year, and he and Stiles had been in the same classes as her in their sophomore year. She was new that year, her family had just moved back into the area; he had a bit of a crush on her and was working up the nerve to ask her out, then he got bitten. Time has been a bit of a mystery to him since he was bitten at the start of his sophomore year; he hid it for a while, but they caught him before they were half way through the first semester. He was taken, processed, chipped and _housetrained_. Then he found out the girl he had a crush on was the daughter that his _trainer and handler_ at the facility was training him for.

He’s gotten used to being naked in front of everyone, with just his collar around his neck; though he nearly broke his training and covered his junk with his paws... his hands when he was given to Allison for her birthday. That was one or two months before sophomore year finished he guesses; being lead around his old school carrying her books while he was naked was embarrassing. Except slave-pets have nothing to be self-conscious about; _their just animals after all_. He stopped blushing when people looked at him, stopped noticing _people noticing him_ , he got used to being naked; unlike having to squat over a puppy pad when he needs to _go_ , he’s still not used to that, _why can’t they let him use a toilet?_

After these few months, _assuming his tracking of time is right_ , of sleeping in his cage in Allison’s room he has gotten used to picking up on her moods, detecting the differences in her scent. He knows that something is worrying her, something to do with her mother he bets, if he could bet; he knows that Allison’s mother doesn’t like him, doesn’t like him being in her house. Specifically doesn’t like him being in Allison’s room; she wanted a kennel built out in the back garden for him to be kept in, but Allison’s dad pointed out it was against regulations and WERES would fine them. Might even take away their license to train and sell slave-pets.

And he’s right about her mood, she doesn’t normally take him to the park; she only comes here when she wants time away from her mom, when they’ve argued. She also doesn’t normally let him off the leash, telling him to run around. He keeps close to her anyway. Then he catches the scent.

It was on the ball that went flying past him; he needed to catch it, something so familiar about it. He chased it, he needed to inhale that scent, it made him feel something; a longing for something he’d lost.

He was standing over, well on all fours he was standing over the ball taking in the scent when this big hulk of a slave... a man came bounding at him; growling at him. He was covered in the scent too, like the ball; then he remembered, **_Stiles_ , his best friend Stiles used to smell like this**.

Allison has clipped the leash back on to his collar, told him he was a ‘bad boy’ for running off like that, when Stiles catches up and tells the other man to sit. He doesn’t attach the leash he is holding to the collar; just places his hand on the back of the man’s head, rubbing his thumb through his hair as he and Allison talk.

Scott feels himself flush with heated colour as Stiles bends down in front of him and picks up the ball from between his knees. Being naked hasn’t embarrassed him like this for ages, he’s aware that Stiles must have seen him naked like this at school when Allison got him, but he never noticed Stiles notice him then; and he knows he’s seen him naked in the locker room, but that was different.

Now, right now he is mortified at his best friend seeing him naked and collared on all fours like the slave-pet he now is.

\---

Derek is kneeling beside Stiles’ chair at the table in the coffee shop. Scott, is kneeling beside his owners’ chair. Derek doesn’t like being this close to either the young wolf or his owner; she smells like Kate.

Stiles suggested that they come here so that they could talk quietly, Allison and him, obviously; it’s not like their pets would be allowed to ‘ _use their words_ ‘, Stiles’ phrase for when he allows Derek to talk to him. ‘Use your words Sourwolf’; only Derek is not very good at using his words now, especially now. He’s afraid he’ll say something, give something away; Stiles is smart, he knows this, and if Derek says the wrong thing Stiles will work it out.

Something that the Argent is saying draws Derek’s attention back to Stiles’ conversation with her.

“...penectomy and castration,” she bites her bottom lip, her eyes downcast.

“ _Your mom wants to cut Scott’s cock and balls off_?” the incredulity is not kept from Stiles’ voice.

“ **What!** “ the young wolf yelps, drawing the attention of the other people in the cafe; Derek can’t stop himself whining at the thought, but he doesn’t use his words.

“Quiet Scott!” the Argent admonished him.

“But...” Scott’s further outburst stopped by the zap of the collar; he’s left whimpering on the floor, whether at pain from the shock from the collar or the shock of the thought at what he is about to lose Derek isn’t certain, as the conversation resumes above them.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re in favour of this modification being done to him,” Stiles comments to her, “there are those that say it calms a slave-pet and makes the more difficult ones manageable.”

“ **It doesn’t mean I want, _or need_ , that done to Scott**,” the Argent seethed, “ _I like having him as he is and using what he has to_ ** _manage_ him**.”

Derek recognised the smirk on his owners’ face; Stiles looked like that when he had a cunning plan, ‘ _a plan so cunning, you could stick a tail on it and call it a weasel_ ‘. Derek heard that on that British show Stiles watched on his laptop; it stuck in his head.

“Then it’s simple,” Stiles smiles at her, “we just make sure that you have the control of your slave-pet, as it should be, and give your parents a reason to give in to what you want.”

“Sourwolf present,” Stiles says as he turns to look at him, then turning back to the Argent, “have you noticed the piece of jewellery I have locked on Sourwolf?” Derek rises from all fours and spreads his knees apart as he places his mitt covered hands at the back of his neck, pushing his hips forward slightly to give her a better view.

\---

Victoria Argent was not happy with the sight that greets her when she walked into the dining room. There are two naked slave-pets kneeling on the floor, Allison’s mutt by her feet looking pensive, a chain metal pouch locked around his cock and balls; and what was the Hale wild dog doing here, its cock locked in a black metal cage, with the boy that bought him? Kate was still not happy with Chris for selling it; she hadn’t been around for the last week, she had taken herself off to New York. Victoria is sure there is going to be trouble when Kate returns.

Her husband Chris is looking over some papers, Allison on one side of him and Hale’s owner on the other.

“I think the figures make sense,” Stilinski, _that’s his name_ , says, “and with Allison controlling when her pet gets relief it can only benefit your breeding programme. Once he has proven himself you can start selling his services to stud to other breeders, take a cut of the profit from that and reduce your own costs from having to rear the pets yourself.”

“It certainly looks compelling,” Chris is saying, “and you make a good argument for scaling back our own breeding programme and getting into providing the stud services and training for other breeders. Especially with the attacks on the breeding facilities near the border.”

“Who knew Canadians could be so violent?” Stiles asks, “Ever since they voted against implementing the Werewolf Enslavement act, the only country in the world to do so, the _Weres Are People Too_ protests in the country have been getting more aggressive. And now actually attacking facilities on US soil; facilities with pregnant females in them. Don’t they think of the risk they are putting the expectant slaves and slave cubs at?”

“Yes, I did hear that at Johnson’s facility in Maine, near Fort Kent, they had three deaths of breeding females when the Canadian Were Rights activists attacked,” Chris Argent looks thoughtful as he speaks, “They thought they were burning down an empty building, and instead killed three of the weres they were trying to free.”

“And it’s obvious that while his insurance covers the monetary loss it isn’t gonna cover the time he loses through needing to rebuild and finding new breeding stock,” Stiles adds, “and if it had been cubs near selling age think of the lost time to restock trained bred-wolves; even if they do lower the age to fourteen years. No, there are definite advantages to providing the stud service instead of rearing the bred weres.”

“You could well be right Stiles,” Chris says, “Allison, are you sure you don’t mind us using your pet to trial this?”

“No, of course not Daddy,” Allison smiles at him, “anything to help the family company; but I need to oversee and have veto of the slave-pets that my pet breeds with.”

“Absolutely,” her father easily agrees with a smile.

 ** _No. No. No_**. _Victoria is not having this; she needs to find a way to stop this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** Excerpt from Chapter-5 *****
> 
> Derek is a little on edge following Stiles around the school halls; he hasn’t been near a school since he was enslaved. He’s naked apart from his collar and the cock-cage locked on him. Stiles is holding the leash connected to his collar; Derek’s hands are crossed at his wrists held behind his back, Stiles hasn’t cuffed or tied them like many owners do, and he is carrying the backpack with Stiles’ books in his mouth.
> 
> It’s not like there are many slaves like himself here, there are a few; it’s not as if most people can afford a werewolf. Less than twenty per cent of the students at the school who are old enough to take the assessments at WERES have done so _and passed_ ; of those less than half have bought, or had their parents buy them, a slave-pet. So Derek is one of about forty slaves on the school grounds; and that includes those owned by the faculty.
> 
> Derek knows, Stiles told him in the jeep on the way to school. He’d been more talkative, more like his normal self after they had a rushed breakfast, a pop tart, a blueberry pop tart; Derek hadn’t had one of those since, well…, and Stiles let him use his own hands to feed himself, but only because they were in a hurry; his Master was going to be late for school.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek stalks around the inside of his cage; the tension rolling in waves from his owner catching in his throat, clawing the whine from him.

As soon as they returned from the Argent’s house Stiles had locked Derek in the cage and then slumped onto his bed above. His scent heavy with self-loathing and despair; Derek knew them well.

“ ** _Quiet Sourwolf_** ,” Stiles hisses at him; his owner’s mood had been foul since the dark haired cub, the bitten wolf called Scott, had talked with him as they were leaving the Argents’. Derek had seen the cub plead with his Mistress; begging with his eyes until she allowed him to use his words. He asked to be allowed to thank Stiles for the plan he devised, she said she would go ask Stiles if he minded; Scott took that as a yes and bounded over to Stiles ahead of his Mistress. Derek could see the grin spread across Scott’s face; the sheer joy shining from his eyes as he ran towards them shouting Stiles’ name.

“ ** _Stiles, Stiles_** ,” Scott shouted as he came to a halt behind him, Stiles turned to him, “Stiles, I just wanted to say thanks; I’m so happy that you’re still my friend, you know, after everything.” Scott waved his hand in the direction of his collar and tags that proclaim him a slave-pet owned by Allison Argent. Neither Scott nor Stiles see Allison striding towards them fuming in anger at the actions of her property.

“ _You are not my friend_ ,” Stiles voice wavers, nearly breaking on the words; Scott’s face crumples in confusion.

“My friend _died_ the day the alpha bit him and the werewolf, _the slave-pet_ , standing before me, daring to talk to me without permission, was created,” Stiles finishes.

As Stiles turns to Allison he doesn’t see the utter dejection break across Scott’s face, the tears welling in Scott’s eyes. Derek knows that Scott missed it; _too busy listening to the words he didn’t hear lie, the blip in Stiles’ heart, Scott didn’t catch the scent of it._

“I’m _so sorry_ Stiles,” Allison’s tone and demeanour is very contrite, as she seethes at Scott’s actions, “I told him I would see if you were willing to allow him to thank you, but he just ran off ahead of me; I can’t believe he would break training like that.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a fitting punishment for him,” Stiles’ smile at her is tight lipped, “I should be going, get this one home and feed him some kibble; see you at school on Monday.”

The drive home is silent. Stiles doesn’t talk; his usual stream of consciousness unvoiced, and the sour over-ripe scents coil themselves around Stiles. Scents that Derek has been familiar with for six years.

The same scents that now fill Stiles’ room, and make Derek pace and whine in his cage; **_self-loathing and despair_**. Derek knows them; he’d become familiar with them ever since he had caused his family to be captured by the Argent’s hunters. They now clung to his owner, to Stiles; and Derek was sure that Stiles believed he was responsible for Scott being bitten.

\---

The alarm clock clatters to the floor, followed by the thud of Stiles’ feet; but that is where the routine that Derek was used to ended.

“ ** _Shit!_** “ Stiles exclaims and immediately heads to the door to leave the room, leaving Derek waiting by the edge of the cage for his morning drink. Why wasn’t Stiles allowing Derek to drink his morning water, _not allow_ , **_why was he thinking allow_** , _forcing him to drink_ ; why wasn’t Stiles forcing him to drink his morning water?

 ** _Why was his owner changing their routine?_** Every morning Stiles would place his morning hardness between Derek’s lips, and Derek would suck the tension from him until he softened and the flow could begin to trickle before becoming a torrent that threatened to overflow from his mouth as he struggled to swallow and not spill any. Derek would then use the puppy pad while Stiles would go to the bathroom. Stiles then unlocked the cage, cleaned up the pad and they would both go to the bathroom and brush their teeth. Stiles would then unlock the cock cage and they would both get under the hot spray of the water. Stiles would wash himself and then Derek; and if Stiles was very happy with Derek his fingers of his right hand would curl around Derek’s hardness, griping him tightly, while the fingers of his left would search inside him for that magic spot and Derek would push back and thrust forward as he leaned his weight on his arms against the tiled wall, whimpering his thanks, his gratitude, at being allowed his own release.

After their shower, when the cock cage was locked back on Derek, and they were back in their room, _his Masters’ room, Stiles’ room_ , Stiles would sit on the chair and Derek would lay himself across his owners’ lap and the cock cage would keep him flaccid as his Master spanked him. Every morning, whether or not he’d been allowed release during their shower, when Stiles spanked him his cock would painfully try to grow erect in the confines of the cage it was locked in to.

The worry that gnawed at Derek pulled the whine from his throat. Stiles interaction with Derek had changed since the encounter with Scott the previous day; Stiles has been unusually quiet and had hardly spoken, for Derek there was no reading last night as Stiles had not been on his computer, Derek spent more time in his cage than he had since Stiles bought him. Stiles hasn’t touched him since the incident with Scott. Now this morning their routine is changed.

It makes Derek worry that, after Stiles’ encounter with Scott reawakening his feelings of guilt, Stiles’ appetite to be his Master has lessened and he’ll be returned to the Argent’s shop; returned to Kate. It’s only a concern of no-longer being with the lesser of two evils; _really, he isn’t worrying at the thought of not being with his Master_.

Derek crawls over to the puppy pad, he needs to use it before they shower; so Stiles can clean him thoroughly. When Stiles returns to the room he’s already showered, and Derek whines again; _they shower together, Stiles washes him, dries him and spanks him. That’s their routine_.

\---

Stiles notices Derek’s despondent look.

“Wassup?” he calls over his shoulder as he starts to dress. Then he face-palms, _be loving, be strict, and above all else be consistent_. He has broken the morning routine he set with Derek, frak. It was going to change today anyway; but he’s totally screwed up.

He pulls up his boxers and crosses over to the cage; crouching down he wraps his hands around the bars. He’s screwed up, and he needs to explain to his Sourwolf why he’s broken the routine for today; and what else is changing.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sees his pets eyes widen in fear, “I’ve messed up; last night I was so wound up after... after we left Allison’s and I forgot to reset the time on the alarm clock, I didn’t leave enough time for our routine. I’m gonna be late for the first day back at school unless we hurry.”

He can see there is still some wariness in his pets’ stance, crouched back in the cage.

“If we don’t vamoose our asses outta here you may end up having to have kibble for breakfast.”

Derek edges towards Stiles.

“Great, now while I finish getting dressed I need you to clean up your puppy pad,” Stiles says as he unlocks the cage, “you know how I clean up your cage in the morning. You can take care of that for me, right?” Stiles is looking at Derek like he is depending on him, needs him to be capable and obedient for him.

“WOOF,” Derek barks his ‘ _yes sir_ ‘.

“Good boy!” His owner beams at him.

Derek does not preen at the praise. _Really, he’s just happy that Kate isn’t getting her claws back into him; it’s nothing else_.

\---

Derek is a little on edge following Stiles around the school halls; he hasn’t been near a school since he was enslaved. He’s naked apart from his collar and the cock-cage locked on him. Stiles is holding the leash connected to his collar; Derek’s hands are crossed at his wrists held behind his back, Stiles hasn’t cuffed or tied them like many owners do, and he is carrying the backpack with Stiles’ books in his mouth.

It’s not like there are many slaves like himself here, there are a few; it’s not as if most people can afford a werewolf. Less than twenty per cent of the students at the school who are old enough to take the assessments at WERES have done so _and passed_ ; of those less than half have bought, or had their parents buy them, a slave-pet. So Derek is one of about forty slaves on the school grounds; and that includes those owned by the faculty.

Derek knows, Stiles told him in the jeep on the way to school. He’d been more talkative, more like his normal self after they had a rushed breakfast, _a pop tart_ , _a blueberry pop tart_ ; Derek hadn’t had one of those since, well..., and Stiles _let him use his own hands to feed himself_ , but only because they were in a hurry; his Master was going to be late for school.

When they arrived at the school, in time, just, Derek became very aware of the stares they received. He knew it wasn’t because of him. Not directly, not because he was a slave-pet, and essentially naked; people were used to seeing naked werewolves collared and lead on a leash. Stiles had told him about two former students who were now slave-pets that were owned by other students and taken to the school; Jackson who was adopted and turned out to be a born wolf, and Scott.

No, the stares were because his owner was Stiles; people were surprised to see Stiles owning and leading a werewolf around. They didn’t expect Stiles to own a slave; Derek wasn’t sure why, it couldn’t be because they thought he wasn’t capable. Derek knew he was; and somehow Derek was going to make them see that too.

Now, a few hours later Derek has seen the appreciative glances some of the girls, and a few of the guys, are giving his owner. His Master seems oblivious to them, thankfully, because Derek doesn’t like the way they are looking as **_his_** _Master_. They’re _too appreciative_ , bordering on sleazy propositioning.

Derek’s mood has soured, he tries to keep it showing on his face even as he knows the he must already be frowning in the way his Master first saw him; the frown that caused his Master to name him _Sourwolf_ , and that therefore his owner must already know. He slumps down to kneel beside Stiles chair in the last class before lunch, chemistry.

The class does nothing to improve Derek’s mood, and brings Stiles’ mood down too. The so-called teacher picks on Stiles for the slightest thing; he’s really being nothing more than a bully, and Derek can’t keep the growl from slipping out.

“Quiet Sourwolf,” Stiles says to him, and he wants to be but this teacher’s attitude is really annoying Derek.

“If you can’t control your pet,” the teacher says, “then maybe you shouldn’t have it at school,” before sneering, “ _or maybe you shouldn’t have it at all_.”

Derek lunges towards the front of the class where the man stands, the growl edging to a roar; he can see the panic in the man’s expression.

“ **Down!** “ Derek drops to the ground at his Masters’ voice.

“You should have better control of your pet,” he tries to sound authoritative, but the quiver in the man’s voice belies his fear at the growing growl; even as he shouts, “ ** _QUIET!_** “ The growls increase in volume.

“You didn’t pass the WERES exam did you,” Derek hears his Masters’ voice say, calm and steady, “ya know the one that shows you are capable of being their alpha; where you show that your voice can take the tone of an alpha to command the beta. It’s not about volume.”

Derek knows his owner is standing just behind him.

“Quiet.” His owner says and Derek is.

The bell rings sounding the end of class.

\---

Allison was as surprised as anyone else in the class.

When Stiles ordered his slave ‘ _down_ ‘ he obeyed immediately, but so did every other slave in the room, Jackson, Scott, and the female that Brian owned; no-one knew her name, Brian never called her by a name.

When Harris continued to round on Stiles, claiming he should have better control of his slave, not only did Stiles slave growl, _the other three did too_.

When Stiles commanded ‘ _quiet_ ‘, in a soft voice, they all fell silent.

But that should not have been possible. The WERES department training, before you take the assessments, say most humans are capable of being an alpha to one slave-pet, a very few being able to be alpha to two. _Never any more_. That’s why the regulations stated that no individual can own more than the number of slave-pets they are assessed for; and never more than two slave-pets.

 _So how could Stiles command four slave-pets_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Excerpt from Chapter-6**
> 
>  
> 
> “ ** _How could you do that_**?” Chris Argent’s voice has risen in volume through the argument with his wife and sister, “this is our daughter we’re talking about Victoria, your niece, Kate, how could the two of you do this to her?”  
>  “We were protecting her, protecting the family reputation,” Victoria’s words sharp, clipped, and shot from between pursed lips.  
> Allison, can’t believe what she has overheard, can’t believe her mother and aunt would do that; they had no right, how could they betray her in such a way? She can’t even think how to set this straight, can’t think of any way to fix this.  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

Derek paced the cage; circling the confines of it as the distress rolled from him. Nothing around him smelled right, everything was sterile and cold. The white tiles of the walls and floor

This wasn’t his cage. He wasn’t with his owner, he wasn’t in his owners’ bedroom where he should be. They had been separated. They’ve taken his collar off, and the cock cage that his Master keeps locked on him.

Derek had been dragged away from Stiles as the WERES enforcers arrested him on suspicion of ‘ _data interference_ ‘; in other words that he had hacked into their systems and amended his pysch evaluation results and was not eligible to own a slave-pet, **_that he didn’t legally own Derek_**.

As Derek was bundled into the cage in the back of the WERES van he saw his Master handcuffed and forced into the back of the police car. His owner’s dad, _the Sheriff_ , left standing at the side of the street looking lost.

If anyone owned Derek he knew it was Stiles. _Stiles took care of him, Stiles was a better Master and owner than he could have hoped for_. Derek couldn’t hold back the pitiful howl that was wrenched from between his lips.

\----

Stiles sat on the bench in the holding cell. The three grey walls around him and the floor to ceiling bars of the cell door ahead of him. He wasn’t being held in a police cell; this was a WERES facility. Somewhere in the building his pet was also being held.

His arrest didn’t make any sense; he knows that he didn’t hack into the WERES computers and change his results. _Why would they think he had?_

More than how this affects him Stiles is worried about Sourwolf and about his dad.

The fearful look on Sourwolf’s face as he was pushed into the cage in the back of the WERES van, the whine that echoed down the street; his pet was looking as distraught as when Stiles first saw him in the cage at the Argents’ store, as scared an unsure as when he first woke in his cage at home.

His dad; his dad looked both bewildered and disappointed. He’s sure his dad thinks he did what he’s been accused of. **_Stiles knows he didn’t_** , but he isn’t sure how to prove it. And if he can’t prove it the effect this will have on his dad’s job as the sheriff, the effect it could already be having. Stiles holds back the tears he feels pooling in his eyes. He has to be stronger than that, he needs to figure out how to prove his innocence and get his pet back.

\----

“ ** _How could you do that?_** “ Chris Argent’s voice has risen in volume through the argument with his wife and sister, “this is our daughter we’re talking about Victoria, your niece, Kate, how could the two of you do this to her?”

“We were protecting her, _protecting the family reputation_ ,” Victoria’s words sharp, clipped, and shot from between pursed lips.

Allison, can’t believe what she has overheard, can’t believe her mother and aunt would do that; **_they had no right_** , how could they betray her in such a way? She can’t even think how to set this straight, can’t think of any way to fix this.

“Kate, you had someone inside the WERES department forge Allisons’ results in the psych exam to allow her to own both domestic and wild pets,” Chris is incredulous at his sister’s actions, more so that his wife knew.

“This is why we need the procedures performed on her pet, to calm him,” Victoria states, “we don’t know that she can control a bitten or a born.”

“I was only thinking of the family reputation,” Kate excuses her actions, “I didn’t think it would be good for people to think that an Argent couldn’t control one of the wild beasts.”

“ _It never occurred to you that she would have passed the evaluation anyway?_ “ Chris seethes at his sister and wife.

“There was always a chance,” Kate says, her smile strained and vicious, “Despite the way you mollycoddle her, but why take the risk.”

“And her control of her pet has been less than complete,” Victoria lamented, “the way it ran after that Stilinski boy and tried to talk to him _as if it was an equal_ , _as if it was human_.”

From her hiding spot just outside the room Allison cringed at the reminder, but that was a rare incident; Scott was normally far better behaved.

“Yes, well the Stilinski boy won’t be around much now that he’s been arrested,” Allison can hear the grin and unhidden pleasure in her aunt’s tone, “and we better get Derek’s cage ready for when he’s returned.”

“ ** _What have you done Kate?_** “ Gerard’s, her grandfather’s, gruff voice cuts through the room, Allison can feel the chill settle as the silence fills the room.

“Kate!” her grandfather demands an answer.

“I made sure that Derek would be returned to where he should be,” Kate snarls her response, “Chris had no right to sell Derek, _he’s mine_.”

“Chris had every right to sell that pet, **I told him to** ,” Gerard’s voice booms in reply, “we are running a business, and keeping that slave penned and fed eats into our profits.”

“If it gets out that you have arranged for someone to hack the WERES database and falsify not only Allison’s results but then, just to get a slave pet that belongs to someone else, you’ve also framed them for hacking into the WERES database and falsifying their psych evaluation... _do you realise the damage to our family’s reputation?_ “ Chris rages at her.

Allison sneaks away from behind the door of the room, she switches off her phone that she was recording them on; she hopes that their conversation is clear enough in the recording. Stiles doesn’t deserve what her Aunt Kate has done to him, _and she doesn’t deserve what her aunt has done to her either_. Now she just needs to decide what to do; to work out what can she do?

\----

John Stilinski poured himself another glass of whiskey.

The investigation team from WERES didn’t seem to be able to state when the fraud was committed, or where it was committed from. They had the fact that a correction to the data had been fed through the system when an audit had taken place in the last week. Every week the system audits itself against an off-line back up of the data to ensure that no corruption of the data occurs.

The only person to obviously benefit from fraudulently setting Stiles’ psych results to scores allowing him to own both wild and domestic slave-pets, and high enough that he would be allowed to own two, is Stiles. _But why?_

And if there are audits of the WERES data every week, why would it have taken so long for the fraud to be found? And if there had been a change in the last week would that not show that the change was to the off-line back up and that it was the lower scores that were fraudulent? Would it not suggest that someone with access to the off-line data had made the amendments?

The only comfort he had right now was that the WERES investigators were asking the same questions, and asking who would benefit from Stiles’ record now showing the lowers scores that would not allow him to own a slave.

The only reason they stated for having taken him in and taken custody of his pet was that their first duty is to the welfare of the slave-pet. They have to ensure that they are being cared for correctly while their investigation continued.

\----

Derek crawls over to the bowl of kibble, he thinks it’s for breakfast. He’s not sure of the time, he can’t see any clocks, and sleep has been fitful. The scent of the place _wrong_ , and not Stiles; _not his Master_.

Stiles only made him eat the kibble in the evening, so that if WERES ever called them in for a random spot-check and checked his blood the additive they had in the kibble would show up in sufficient quantities that he wouldn’t be accused of not feeding him properly.

Derek knew his owner fed him better than he had been since his enslavement. Stiles fed him pancakes, and bacon and sausages; he let him lick the syrup from the pancakes, or the grease from the sausages, off his fingers after placing the food in Derek’s mouth.

Derek’s life over the last few weeks had been good; better than the last six years. His life with Stiles had been something he could get used to, accept; _even the morning routine and his spanking_. It was better than being at Kate’s mercy. He could almost laugh at the concept of _Kate’s mercy_. He should have known it wouldn’t last, he wishes it had been just a little longer; that he could have had that _feeling of safety, of home_ , for just a little more time. _At least it ended before he said anything, or before he did anything with Stiles_.

He wasn’t going to have his routine this morning. Some stranger was going to be coming in and changing the puppy-pad, take him to be washed and brush his teeth. And they would be using the slave-pet products; taking even more of his Master’s scent away, covering it over with a chemical stench.

It’s that coil of worry in the pit of his stomach, tightening its grip; what is going to happen to him now that they have taken him from Stiles? But what worries him more is what are they doing to his Master, what are they doing to his Stiles?

\----

Stiles looks at the unappetising bowl of grey slop he’s been given for breakfast, _is it supposed to be oatmeal?_

The mattress on the bench that acted as his bed was _not_ comfortable, not that anyone asked. He didn’t really sleep much, worrying more about his Sourwolf and his dad. He’s sure his dad will have eaten something that wasn’t on Stiles’ list of approved foods for him, like a cheeseburger and curly fries. Stiles can feel his mouth water at the thought, curly fries; _mmmm_.

He goes over in his mind the session of questions with the WERES investigators last night. They kept going round the same questions over and over.

Whose username and password did he use?

Where did he meet the WERES employee whose access was used to the system?

What was his psychological evaluation score?

When was his evaluation taken and processed?

His answers to the questions never changed; he kept telling them he never accessed the system, never changed the psych score, the one that allowed him to buy his pet was his genuine score.

The cell door opens and Stiles prepares himself for more of the same.

\----

Victoria Argent knocks on the door to her daughters’ bedroom before entering to let her know that breakfast is ready; that she needs to get a move on before she is late for school.

She scans the room and there is no sign of Allison. More worryingly her pet’s cage is open and empty, her bed is made or hasn’t been slept in. She quickly heads to the bathroom to check if Allison is there, it’s empty. She turns and runs downstairs, heading to the kitchen.

“Chris, she isn’t in her room,” a panicked edge to her voice, “and the cage is open, her pet is gone too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Excerpt from Chapter-7
> 
> When she dragged him out of the car outside the WERES building he nearly pissed himself in fear at being back there; back where he had been processed after he was caught, then sent for training at the Argent’s facility. He nearly balked and pulled against her as she led him on his leash; he didn’t, he caught himself in time, but he couldn’t stop the whimper and whine of fear. His distress at being brought here overriding his ability to think rationally, driving him to rely on his instincts.
> 
> He knew he had been bad, that he shouldn’t have rushed out to Stiles and talked to him. He was just so caught up in his emotions. Stiles had come up with a plan to stop Allison’s mom from taking him to the vet to have his junk cut off, he didn’t stop to think that Stiles was doing that for Allison; he thought that Stiles was doing that for him, that he was still his friend.
> 
> He had been so lost in his thoughts he nearly walked into Allison when she stopped, he lifted his head to look at her; could see the concern in her eyes. She raised a hand, ruffling his hair before sliding it down to cup his cheek in her palm and brush a thumb under his eye wiping the tears he hadn’t noticed falling.
> 
> “Don’t worry,” her voice quiet in the still of the night air, “everything is going to be okay.” She turned from him and started to lead him into the building. He wasn’t supposed to hear her say ‘ _I hope_ ’; but sometimes she forgot about his werewolf super hearing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Scott woke in a strange cage, surrounded by scents and smells that aren’t Allison; or the sterile, clinical, scent of the WERES cage that he had been held in for the last three days. He knew it was three days because he had six large bowls of kibble, was exercised three times and the lights in the room with the cage he was kept in were dimmed for him to sleep three times. He doesn’t know why Allison took him there, or why she left him there. She told him nothing.

They snuck out of her house without waking her parents in the middle of the night. He had trouble waking, always did when he had the kibble before curling up in his cage at night. The next thing he knew she was shoving him out of the front door and he was on the floor in the back of the car. She threw a blanket over him and then she was driving them off somewhere.

When she dragged him out of the car outside the WERES building he nearly pissed himself in fear at being back there; back where he had been processed after he was caught, then sent for training at the Argent’s facility. He nearly balked and pulled against her as she led him on his leash; he didn’t, he caught himself in time, but he couldn’t stop the whimper and whine of fear. His distress at being brought here overriding his ability to think rationally, driving him to rely on his instincts.

He knew he had been bad, that he shouldn’t have rushed out to Stiles and talked to him. He was just so caught up in his emotions. Stiles had come up with a plan to stop Allison’s mom from taking him to the vet to have his junk cut off, he didn’t stop to think that Stiles was doing that for Allison; he thought that Stiles was doing that for him, that he was still his friend.

He had been so lost in his thoughts he nearly walked into Allison when she stopped, he lifted his head to look at her; could see the concern in her eyes. She raised a hand, ruffling his hair before sliding it down to cup his cheek in her palm and brush a thumb under his eye wiping the tears he hadn’t noticed falling.

“Don’t worry,” her voice quiet in the still of the night air, “everything is going to be okay.” She turned from him and started to lead him into the building. He wasn’t supposed to hear her say ‘ _I hope_ ‘; but sometimes she forgot about his werewolf super hearing.

Inside the building there were men waiting.

“I want you to go with the handlers, while I have chat with these men,” Allison looked at him, her eyes heavy with worry, “they’ll take care of you until this is all over.”

The handlers too him to the slave-pet detention area. He didn’t see Allison again.

He recognises the scent surrounding him, it is familiar; startling him fully awake as he realises the scent is Stiles’. A deep warning growl from behind him has him turning around, taking in the familiar sight sights of Stiles’ bedroom that he can see through the bars of the cage, until he comes face to snarling face with the wolf from the park.

\----

Derek sat against the bars of his cage, _his cage_ that was in _his Master’s_ room, staring at the dark haired wolf that lay sprawled before him; **_in his_ cage**.

Derek had been stressed when two days ago he was taken from the WERES cages; the handlers taking him didn’t tell him what was happening, they wouldn’t talk to a pet other than to say in that fake sing-song voice ‘ _come on boy_ ‘ and ‘ _here boy_ ‘. He was certain that he was about to be handed over to Kate Argent, back to the basement under the Argent’s store where she ‘ _played_ ‘ with him. The thought chilled him; after belonging to Stiles, even for such a short time, he could entertain the idea of killing Kate if he was given back to her. The idea of belonging to her again after being owned by Stiles he couldn’t endure it; he’d rather ensure that WERES would put him down for harming a human.

When he saw Stiles in the corridor he couldn’t stop himself pulling the leash out of the handler’s grip as he bound towards his owner, falling to his knees beside him and wrapping his arms around his legs; his nose buried against Stiles’ crotch.

“Hey boy,” Stiles said as he ruffled his hair, “desperate to go home?”

The relief that flood Derek at the words, he was going home; with Stiles, with his owner.

“WOOF!” he happily barked. His collar and cock-cage were fitted to him again, and Derek couldn’t have been happier.

On the car ride home he clung to Stiles as they sat in the back seat; Stiles’ dad was driving them home and they were in the back; Derek curled in Stiles’ lap, his head resting on Stiles’ shoulder and his nose buried in his neck taking comfort from his Masters’ scent. Once they got home Derek followed Stiles everywhere he went. He couldn’t, he **_wouldn’t_** , let Stiles out of his sight; he needed to know that his Master wasn’t being taken from him again.

Early this morning when the WERES handlers had entered the room he whined in panic as they opened the cage, scrambling to the back out of their reach unless they entered. Then he caught the scent of another wolf being brought in to the room by two other WERES handlers. They bent over as they carried the wolf into his cage and put him face down before leaving.

He saw his owner sign the papers accepting delivery of the wolf, then the handlers left.

Derek edged around the interloper in the middle of his cage, clinging to the bars as he watched the sleeping figure. _This was the young Argent girl’s slave, why did his owner have him?_

Derek recalled that his owner had helped the Argent girl convince her father that rather than allow her mother to have her slave-pet castrated and his penis removed they could use him as a stud for the breeding program; that they would provide stud services to the other companies with the breeding licenses and not actually raise the cubs themselves.

_Is that why he is here? Does his owner, does Stiles, know what Derek is?_

Derek recognised the signs of his approaching heat. It had started after he was returned to Stiles, the scent of his Mat... _the scent of his Master_ ; that feeling of belonging, the feeling of safety that started something he hadn’t experienced for six years.

As the Argent’s wolf awoke Derek couldn’t stop himself from growling in anger at him; he didn’t want to be _serviced_ by this wolf, he didn’t want his owner to _breed_ him and hand his cubs over to an Argent facility to be raised and trained. He wanted his owner to care for him, he wanted his Master to love him.

But he’d been stupid, again. He’d thought his human owner had cared about him, just as he had thought Kate cared for him. Both times he was fooled by his own desires. His anger at his own stupidity turning his growl at the young wolf into a rage filled snarl of fury as the stud pup turned to face him.

\----

The WERES handlers had reminded him that with both his pets being beta wolves they would likely fight for dominance and pack position, especially being kept in the same cage, therefore he had to ensure that any injuries were properly treated. They would be back to check on the welfare of both slave-pets. There would be three visits, the first in one week, the second the following week and the final visit two weeks later to ensure that Stiles was handling the care of his wolves correctly. They also pointed out that he had a couple of _fine specimens_ there and if he planned on showing either of them he would be advised to get them separate cages to keep injuries from dominance displays between them to a minimum.

Stiles had smiled at them and thanked them for the complements on his wolves, the reminders and the advice, as he showed them to the door. He didn’t think about slamming it their stupid smiling faces as they stood smiling at him and holding out their hands to shake as they left, _much_. He shook their hands, smiled at them and said ‘ _Be seeing you!_ ‘ They didn’t get his reference to the ‘ _The Prisoner_ ‘. He didn’t get what it was about them and the way they talked about Sourwolf and Scott that annoyed him so much; after it isn’t as if they said anything socially unacceptable.

He headed up the stairs and turned to enter his bedroom to the sound of snarling and growling; his slave-pets were not getting along. As he walked into his room Sourwolf was lunging at Scott.

“ **Derek! Down!** “ he shouted at him, causing Sourwolf to falter in his attack, quickly getting down into the laying position, belly touching the ground and his arms extended out in front; Derek turned to look at his Master in surprise.

Derek could see it in his face, his Master didn’t even realise he had called him by the wrong name, he called him by his old name, he didn’t call him Sourwolf.

\----

Allison walked along the aisle of cages in the facility looking at what was available. She missed having Scott, but her profile clearly showed she wasn’t suited to having a wild wolf as her pet; she needed a domesticated slave-pet.

She had expected all hell to break loose when her family found out what she had done. As it turned out she had only been partly correct. Her Aunt Kate and her mother erupted in unleashed anger when she arrived home with the two officials from WERES and two armed deputies. The charges against her aunt are many and varied, she has been told that she will not be able to avoid a custodial, prison, sentence. Her mother was charged as an accessory after the fact only in relation to the falsifying of Allison’s record at WERES, for that they are expecting her sentence to be lenient and for her not to be incarcerated. 

Her father and grandfather took things better, saying that ‘ _she had done the right thing_ ‘. Her dad and grandfather are working on minimising the damage to the family reputation now that what her Aunt and mother had done is known, and using the fact that Allison reported it to their advantage.

Which is why her grandfather is with her now to buy her a new slave-pet to replace Scott, they gave Scott to Stiles as part of the settlement for the harm caused to his reputation by her aunt framing him and falsifying his records.

“See anything you like sweetheart?” her grandfather’s gruff voice asks from behind her, breaking her from her memories, her eyes fall on the slave-pet in the cage ahead of her.

“What about this one?” she asks, “what do we know about his background?”

Her grandfather glances at the designation on the cage, they don’t put names there as whatever name the wolf is known as isn’t important, an owner can call their slave-pet whatever they like. He looks the designation up in the records.

“Thought so from the look of him,” his smile the sly smile of a man pleased with himself, “he’s bred from one of the first packs I brought in when we first got the license to hunt them, “he’s bred from the Black pack. He’s never known life outside the facility, well trained, obedient; I think he’d be a good choice for you, if you want him.”

“Yes,” Allison had a glint in her eye, this domesticated born slave-pet will do very nicely, “I want this one; what’s his name?”

“Whatever you want to call him sweetheart, but his given name is Jacob.”

She walks to the cage, grasping one of the bars, the slave-pet edges close to her and one of his own hands grasps the bar next to the one she holds, his dark brown eyes shine as he looks at her.

“You belong to me Jacob Black.”

“WOOF!” he happily barks.

\----

Stiles gaze jumps between both his slaves-pets, scanning them for any obvious signs of injury. Opening the cage he turns and walks to is computer chair, sitting down he indicates to the two pets to come to him and kneel.

Sourwolf bounds over to him, putting himself between Stiles and Scott, ensuring that Scott can’t get closer to him. Stiles swivels his chair so that Sourwolf is on his left and pats the right side of his chair indicating that Scott is to kneel there.

Scott slowly moves to kneel where shown, his body flush with embarrassment, he’d gotten used to this with Allison, being naked, crawling and kneeling before her, but this is Stiles, he was his friend, and he doesn’t know why he’s here, why he was in a cage with Stiles’ slave-pet and why he isn’t with Allison anymore.

Stiles knows he should have told Sourwolf what was happening after the Argents contacted him and his dad yesterday and told them of their proposal, and then the WERES called to confirm acceptance and arrange delivery. But in his defence Stiles was still in shock, one -- that Allison had turned her family in to WERES to save him, two -- that she given Scott to WERES until she had taken the evaluation again, three -- that the Argents were giving him Scott as part, _part_ , of a settlement for the distress and anguish Kate had caused him and his dad, four -- that he owned Scott. There was probably more but Stiles’ brain kept shutting down at that point.

He looks down at the scared and bewildered faces of his pets and is about to explain to them what has happened and why Scott is here. He knows the Argents haven’t told Scott anything, _it can just cause more distress to a slave-pet when they find out they are not going to be owned by the same Master or Mistress and given to a new owner_ ; yeah, right, Stiles totally believes that not knowing what is happening to them is not stressful to a slave-pet. **_Not_**.

Before he says a word Sourwolf totally breaks with his training and whines at Stiles.

“ ** _I don’t want to be bred by him, and I don’t want to have his cubs for you to give to the Argents_**.”

He then dashes back to his cage and pulls the door closed behind before curling up around himself at the back of the cage on his bedding.

Stiles, and Scott, stare at him in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Excerpt from Chapter-8
> 
> Scott is alone in the cage under Stiles’, _his owners’_ , bed.  
> Scott thinks he should be worried about how easily he has accepted that, and about how not worried he is about the fact that his former best friend is his owner, **_his Master_**.
> 
> It had taken Stiles some time to calm Derek, Sourwolf, down; Scott remembers him from his time in the Argent’s cages with the other slave-pets for sale, none of them really smiled or were happy, but Derek was always far more grumpy and saddened than any other caged wolf. He supposes that is why Stiles named him Sourwolf, but he isn’t gonna ask; he can’t really, not unless his Master lets him use his words, lets him ask.
> 
> It turns out that Sourwolf isn’t a beta like everyone had thought, _he’s a delta_. A delta that was reassured and relaxed enough with Stiles as his owner that he was starting to have his first heat in over six years. Scott remembered in the slave-pet courses, _before he became a slave-pet himself_ , that they said deltas are rare and that it has never been possible for an enslaved delta to go into heat and be impregnated; that was only possible ‘ _in the wild_ ’. Unless a delta was bonded to their mate, or had their heat regularly, it was impossible to tell the difference between a beta and a delta.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Scott is alone in the cage under Stiles’, _his owners’_ , bed.

Scott thinks he should be worried about how easily he has accepted that, and about how _not worried_ he is about the fact that his former best friend is his owner, **_his Master_**.

It had taken Stiles some time to calm Derek, _Sourwolf_ , down; Scott remembers him from his time in the Argent’s cages with the other slave-pets for sale, none of them really smiled or were happy, but Derek was always far more grumpy and saddened than any other caged wolf. He supposes that is why Stiles named him Sourwolf, but he isn’t gonna ask; he can’t really, not unless his Master lets him use his words, lets him ask.

It turns out that Sourwolf isn’t a beta like everyone had thought, _he’s a delta_. A delta that was reassured and relaxed enough with Stiles as his owner that he was starting to have his first heat in over six years. Scott remembered in the slave-pet courses, _before he became a slave-pet himself_ , that they said deltas are rare and that it has never been possible for an enslaved delta to go into heat and be impregnated; that was only possible ‘ _in the wild_ ‘. Unless a delta was bonded to their mate, or had their heat regularly, it was impossible to tell the difference between a beta and a delta.

Once their owner had calmed Sourwolf he coaxed him out of the cage and had him kneel on the other side of him, so that Sourwolf was on his left and he was on his right. Then he explained why Scott was here.

Scott isn’t here to breed Sourwolf, he’s here because Allison’s aunt, Kate, had faked Allison’s psych evaluation, and then had also changed Stiles’ results to make it look as though he didn’t pass and that he had falsified them. So, as Allison’s actual results show she isn’t allowed a ‘wild’ slave-pet she can’t own Scott. The Argent’s decided that as part of the settlement for Kate’s actions against Stiles they would give Scott to Stiles.

Scott had started to ask what he meant by ‘ _Scott was given to me as part of the settlement_ ‘, he wanted to ask so many question, but Stiles shocked him through the collar as he reprimanded him for using human speech without being given permission to ‘ _use his words_ ‘.

His Master is downstairs with his other slave-pet, talking to the delta about what they will do when he goes into heat. Then Sourwolf is going to be punished for speaking human without permission.

After Sourwolf has been punished Scott will be too for using his words, the shock with the collar was a warning; Stiles expects better of him, he was trained and owned by the Argents. So, as he sits alone in the cage he wonders what it is going to be like, having Stiles as his Master, _being owned by Stiles_ , it won’t be like the sleepovers they used to have playing marathon sessions of COD on the Xbox; _and what will being punished by him be like..._

\----

Stiles is sitting in his dad’s armchair. Sourwolf is curled up on his lap with his head resting on Stiles’ shoulder and his nose pressed firmly against the skin of Stiles’ neck; as if he can’t get enough of Stiles’ scent.

When Stiles first realised what Sourwolf’s outburst meant his stomach clenched as the WERES handler’s words replayed in his head, ‘ _nice specimens you have_ ‘. When they investigated Stiles for the hacking and amending of his record, had he also been the handler to look after Derek while he was there? Had he been inappropriate with Sourwolf and caused his heat?

The thoughts coiled inside Stiles, twisting his gut. He was more than relieved when he talked with Sourwolf, allowed him to use his words, and he had said that it wasn’t any of the handlers at WERES that had started his heat to come on, it was his Master. It was Stiles that Sourwolf was going into heat for, and really that shouldn’t have made him want to pump his fist in the air; but it did.

“How long before...?” Stiles softly asks his pet.

“Two or three days, if I remember correctly,” Sourwolf breathes across Stiles’ neck, “it’s been a while, but from what I’m feeling,” Stiles can see the blush colour his skin as he admits the next, “ _from how often I’ve needed to use the puppy pads in the cage_ ,” Stiles can see that Sourwolf is struggling to talk about this, he lets him take his time to explain, “in deltas a heat is different than for female betas. Our body needs to... regrow _the parts_ , and it needs to evacuate the waste, so that it’s clean for impregnation. Based on how much I used the pads over the last couple of days I think it’s only a few days away.” When Stiles thinks on it the pads in Sourwolf’s cage were more heavily soiled than usual; _thankfully they are odour absorbent and he folds them over after use so that Stiles knows to it needs replaced_.

“How did you get through your heat before?” Stiles asks, “I mean, I don’t think you were mated.” Stiles isn’t sure if that was the right word, ‘mated’, but they never really covered how to take care of a delta in heat in the WERES courses. Captive deltas didn’t go into heat.

“There were heat rooms,” Stiles can see Sourwolf blush as he tells his story, “under the house. When I or my beta sisters went into heat we would be locked alone in the rooms to take care of ourselves for the three to five days that the heat lasted.”

“When was your first heat?” Stiles asked as he held Sourwolf, a hand running comforting circles on his back as the other gently stroked his thigh; he had read in the WERES factsheets that a female werewolf would have their first heat towards the end of puberty, between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. For deltas they believed it was similar, but no deltas were being born in facilities from the breeding programs, _that they could verify_ , and any _wild_ delta that was enslaved stopped having their heat or even self-lubricating when they were aroused.

“I was fifteen, I remember after I came out of the heat room Laura teased me about... _about the toys_ that mom had bought for me and how... _how wet I was_ as they half-carried me to the room.”

Derek snuggled closer, tighter against his Master, seeking comfort as he remembered his past, his family, his pack.

Stiles felt the dampness against his skin and knew that Sourwolf was crying at the memory, at the loss. He wraps his arms around Sourwolf, his hands running over his hairless, smooth, skin; seeking to comfort his slave, his pet, **_his..._**

He turns his head towards Sourwolf, placing a kiss against his temple.

Derek turns his head, lifting his face towards his Master’s; their lips met and he relaxed into Stiles’ touch as his owner claimed his mouth, biting at his lips and chin, between growls of ‘ ** _Mine_** ‘. Derek couldn’t disagree with him, he knew he was Stiles’.

\----

Scott could smell the arousal as Stiles and Sourwolf re-enter the room; the reddened, kiss swollen lips on the wolf clearly visible. The wolf was leaning in to the touch of Stiles’ hand on his back, reluctant to move from him as he was guided back to the cage.

“I’ve decided that the punishment for both of you is that for the next week you don’t get to read the comics while I am on the computer,” Stiles states as Sourwolf slowly pads back into the cage, glaring at Scott as he sniffs the air.

Scott hadn’t been aware that getting to read was allowed; he didn’t get to read anything at the Argent facility or when Allison owned him.

“As Sourwolf will be going into heat in the next few days I won’t have time to be able to get another cage, not that there is actually room for two full sized cages in here, so Scotty I’ll be locking you back in the chainmail pouch,” Stiles says to Scott, continuing, “given the scent he’ll be giving off I can’t risk you being tempted.”

Scott’s mouth is opening and closing, he wants to say something, to say he wouldn’t be tempted, that Stiles doesn’t need to lock that metal pouch around his junk.

“Come on,” Stiles coaxes him to leave the cage; he tries to plead with his eyes, giving Stiles what he always called his sad brown puppy dog eyes, the irony not lost on him that now he is Stiles’ _, one of Stiles’_ , pets.

The command in Stiles’ voice was enough to get Scott to behave and stand still as the cream was applied to all the hair on his body from the neck down; Stiles told him that he was going to keep him as smooth as he kept Sourwolf.

Scott had thought that he was going to wash himself in the shower, Allison had always made him shower after she had finished and she was rushing to get ready for school. She didn’t like getting the smell of the slave-pet shampoo or other stuff on her. He nearly jumped as Stiles climbed in behind him, opening his mouth to protest that he _couldn’t_ have Stiles wash him.

“ _Nah-ah_ , no using your words Scotty, not unless I give you permission,” Stiles stopped Scott’s words before he spoke them, before he broke the rules again, “I take care of my slave-pets.”

Scott can smell the shampoo Stiles is pouring into his hand, can see the bottle, and it isn’t the chemical stench of the slave-pet specialised product.

“I don’t use the products formulated for werewolves,” Stiles looks directly at him as he is rubbing the shampoo into his scalp, “I don’t believe they are needed, plus, using the same shower gel and shampoo that I use myself, and use on Sourwolf, will help get you smelling like pack, like your alpha, like me.”

Stiles sees the questioning look in Scott’s eyes, can see Scott picking up on the turmoil in his emotions. He must be sending out all sorts of scents, he had hoped the water and the shower gel would have covered it, and even he can feel his heart beating its way out of his chest. _He can’t let his resolve break, he has to keep strong; it’s the only way to protect Scott and Derek, **Sourwolf**_. Stiles was sure that while his dad **_had_** been right about him not being capable of owning Scott and being his Master back when Scott was first enslaved he was certain he was able now; _there was just that little quiet voice in his head saying maybe not_. And he knew why.

Scott knows something is wrong. He knows Stiles, his owner, is unhappy; he’s picked up on that since he woke up here. He clearly cares about the Sourwolf given the only punishment for the outburst earlier is that neither of them can read comics for a week; he remembers the feel of the rattan cane soaked in wolfsbane when he was being trained, that was what he expected to happen to Sourwolf, and himself, for talking without permission. Allison would have given him at least two strokes for what he did earlier, it was six he got when he talked to Stiles that day. He wants to ask his owner what is wrong, why he is unhappy, but he isn’t allowed to; and he doesn’t want to upset him anymore.

Stiles is going to regret it, he knows even before the words are out of his mouth that it is a mistake, a huge mistake, and it’s only going to lead to trouble, but he says it anyway.

“What’s up Scotty?” he asks as he rinses Scott’s hair, he would avoid looking him in the eye if he could, but that would be a submissive gesture and not conducive to Scott seeing him as his Master, which he absolutely has to, “You can use your words.”

“Is it because you don’t really want me that you’re sad?” Scott’s question isn’t what he expected, while he tries to think how to answer Scott’s words keep flowing, “I remember the look of disgust you had when they came and took me for processing, _how much you hated what I was_ , I figured that was why you didn’t buy me, ‘cause I saw how the first day Jackson and I were in the Argent’s place after our training finished he was bought by his best friend. That first day Danny was in the door as soon as they opened to buy Jackson, and I was so hoping that my best friend would buy me. I thought after what happened when they came to take me you might buy me. I figured that it would be a little weird, but that we’d get used to it. I mean it works for Danny and Jackson, right?

I guess though that it is probably more weird for me, I never stopped being your friend, you were always my best friend. I remembered how highly you scored on the WERES tests, how we both always said you would be the awesomest Master to any slave-pet, how you would help me train mine when I was finally able to get one. But you didn’t buy me, and then I remembered how horrified you were when you saw what I was; then Allison’s dad bought me for her, and the only reason you have me now is that the Argents gave me to you.

I know that time at the park I was a little freaked when you saw me naked and leashed, and I know that I was stupid to think that you came up with the plan to stop Allison’s mom having my bits cut off was because you were still my friend, I know it was to help Allison...”

“ ** _No_** ,” Stiles blurts out before he can stop himself, and then he can’t halt, the words keep tumbling from him, “I couldn’t not try to come up with something to keep her mom from cutting your junk off, it was all my fault that she even had the chance to do that, and I did want to buy you from their store, but my dad wouldn’t, he said it wouldn’t be good for either of us and _at the time_ he was right. I was the worst best friend ever, I didn’t even know what was happening to you, that you were becoming a werewolf, and it was all my fault, I dragged you out to look for the dead body in the woods, I didn’t tell my dad that you were there too when he caught me, because I was totally selfish and I knew if your mom found out I had dragged you out there she would have banned us from having any bro-time for like forever and I didn’t want that and because of that you got bitten by the frakkin’ alpha that was out in the woods.”

Neither can tell if it’s the spray from the shower or the tears that each knows they are crying as they hold one another; their foreheads resting together under the water.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Scott quietly says, “I didn’t let your dad know I was there either. I chose to go out looking for the body with you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“When did I ever give you a choice Scott?” Stiles’ breath caresses across Scott’s cheek, “And now I don’t get to, now I have to treat you, and Sourwolf, as my slaves, my pets, my property. I have to treat you how everyone expects me to or they will take you away from me and you could end up with someone like Allison’s mom, or crazy aunt. But I won’t let that happen. To protect you and keep you safe I have to be your owner, your Master, your Alpha.”

“You’ll be the awesomest,” Scott quietly says against his lips, “Master.”

\----

When Stiles’ dad arrives back home after his shift has ended the first thing he does is call out to him.

“Stiles.”

Stiles leaves Sourwolf and Scotty locked in their cage, both of them locked in their respective cock-cages, and goes down the stairs to his dad.

“Hey dad,” Stiles greets him, “There’s an Eggplant and Chickpea Stew in the fridge.”

“Great,” Stiles can tell from his dad’s voice he is thinking anything but ‘ _great_ ‘.

“It’s healthy and nourishing,” Stiles counters, “I’m just looking after you.”

“Would you feed it to your pets?” his dad asks, “Mrs Johnson told me that the WERES truck delivered ‘ _another one of them_ ‘ today, so I assume Scott is caged upstairs.”

“Yeah,” Stiles knows his dad still doesn’t think that he should have accepted Scott from the Argents as part of the deal, “I...”

“Stiles, I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” his dad interrupts, “I saw how much Sourwolf needed you when we picked him up a couple of days ago, given the surly beast I saw in the showroom when you chose him I wasn’t sure about him. But the obedience you command from him, the way he dotes on you. I shouldn’t have doubted you, I know you’ll be the Master that Scott will need you to be, even given your history together and how he ended up being bitten.”

“Thanks dad,” Stiles wraps his arms around his dad and hugs him tight, “I love you dad.”

“Love you too, son.”

\----

Stiles asked his dad to keep an eye on his two slave-pets as he needed to head to Deaton’s to get some _things_ for Sourwolf and Scott; explaining that he needed to make sure they didn’t hurt each other vying for dominance. He didn’t want to have to explain that Sourwolf was actually a delta and was going into heat. For one his dad would be sceptical, only wild deltas go into heat, and two he didn’t want him worrying about the cost of dealing with a pregnant slave-pet.

The animal clinic was empty when Stiles arrived, Deaton emerging from a room at the back when the bell on the door sounded.

“Stiles,” Deaton comments as he stands on the other side of the counter, “what can I do for you?”

“How would I find ‘ _The True North_ ‘?” Stiles asks him.

“’ _Strong and free_ ‘,” Deaton replies as he moves to lock the door, “come through to the back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Excerpt from Chapter-9
> 
> It is Scott’s first morning waking up with Stiles as his Master, in the same cage as Sourwolf under their Master’s bed. He sees Sourwolf kneeling by the bars at the other end of the cage, waiting. Scott wonders if he should be kneeling there too, waiting for… Scott doesn’t know what Sourwolf is waiting for, Stiles never told him he was expected to do anything in particular in the morning. 
> 
> So far being owned by Stiles has been nothing like his training or his life with Allison. He wasn’t caned for speaking human, he wasn’t fed kibble except as the last meal before they bedded down for the night. Stiles said that he would be eating the minimum amount of kibble required to ensure that the WERES test would give a positive result; most of his meals would be the same as Stiles ate himself, and yesterday he knelt beside Stiles as Sourwolf did and was fed the same pizza that Stiles had. Stiles tore pieces of the pizza from his own plate and placed them in their mouths. Scott was a little freaked at first, being hand fed by Stiles, but then he thought he’d already been washed by him in the shower, and had the chain-mail pouch locked around his junk by him. He saw Sourwolf lick Stiles’ fingers clean after each bite he fed him and started to copy him; licking Stiles’ fingers after each bite of pizza he was fed, Stiles smiled at him and it made Scott happy to see that his Master was pleased with him. And seriously, he was being fed pizza, if it would mean he didn’t have to eat the kibble he’d eat the pizza off the floor.
> 
> Scott rises from the bedding that Sourwolf grudgingly shared with him last night and goes to kneel beside him at the bars of the cage.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite strawberry blonde blackmailing jezebel of a freedom fighter,” Stiles’ every word dripping with sarcasm as he follows Deaton into the room and sees Lydia Martin sitting there, “Oh, wait, sorry you weren’t the one doing the blackmailing, you just benefitted from it.”

Stiles know he sounds bitter, knows that there was a time not that long ago when the sight of Lydia would have brought a smile to his face and he would have sought to find some way to try and impress her. Not now. Not since he found out she was connected with the man, _Scotty’s former boss_ ; that threatened to expose him, put him at risk just to get him to help them. **_They could have just asked_**.

“Stiles,” Deaton simply says as if he’s being unreasonable.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Stiles can’t stop; it still hurts him that Deaton chose to _force him to work for them_ rather than _ask him to work with them_ , “Does being reminded of the fact that you threatened to turn me into the WERES and make me a slave-pet offend you? This coming from the man who covered up the fact that, apparently, I’m what? Not entirely human and not entirely werewolf. All so I could get close to the Argents and spy on them to find out about their ‘stock’ movement; or does that not count as blackmail in your world?”

“Stiles,” Lydia’s quietly shocked voice barely audible, everything else dies in her throat as Stiles interrupts. He doesn’t want to hear her talking about helping **_his people_** one more time. _The wolves don’t recognise him as one of them_ , and if the humans knew what he was they wouldn’t consider him one of them either; _clearly Deaton and Lydia don’t_. Stiles is just lucky that whatever test it is that is done by WERES to check that you are human isn’t the testing that Deaton did for his mom.

“Save it,” he snaps, “and anyway things are working out better than you hoped. WERES handlers dropped off Scotty earlier today, he was **part** of the remuneration package that the Argents made with me for the settlement. I go over to their offices tomorrow with my dad and our lawyer, Mr Whittemore, to sign the papers on the other part,” Stiles pauses for dramatic effect, “ten per cent of Argents business empire; forty per cent of what Kate owned, the other sixty is split between Gerard, Chris and Victoria. Increasing their share to thirty per cent each.”

“They are giving you ten per cent of the company?” Deaton sounds like he can’t quite believe it; honestly Stiles doesn’t blame him, he can’t quite believe it himself.

“Like I said, I sign the papers tomorrow, then I can dig around in the company business and it’ll all be legit,” Stiles gives them a half-smile that is all fake, “then I get to pass on all their secrets to you, and give you just what you always wanted.”

“You need to be careful Stiles,” Deaton warns, he almost sounds genuinely concerned, “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Doc, if you’re not careful you’ll make me think you actually care,” Stiles mocks, surprised by the flicker of hurt in the man’s eyes.

“I know the way I enlisted your help gives you no reason to think so,” Deaton’s voice is solemn, “but your safety is my top concern. Your psych profile simply made you the best candidate, your natural dominance and sadism scores would mean you would be capable of doing what may be necessary ...”

“Yeah, I remember the original plan,” Stiles cuts in, “ _I happen to be at the park with my new pet, Scotty will probably misbehave when he catches my scent, I get him under control and start talking to her, worm my way in with some anecdotes on Scotty from when he was human that might make it easier for her to control him..._ I know the lame plan you two came up with, thankfully the situation panned out differently and I was able to improvise.”

“ _Yes, Stiles you were_ ,” Lydia’s words are brittle and callous as she spits them out, “ _and do you still plan to pimp out your best friend now that you own him_?”

“Gee, Lyds,” Stiles all but snarls at her, “I would prefer to keep my pets to myself to play with, but I guess I’ll need to look at what is best for the company.”

The shocked look on Lydia’s face is almost worth the coldness of his answer.

“Really I’d prefer that it was a consensual relationship, but I don’t have much choice but to treat them the same way every other owner treats their slave-pets Lydia,” Stiles tone is hard and resolute, but full of regret, “hopefully I’m a little bit kinder, but I need to be their Master, I need them to be my slave-pets; and, and it needs to be twenty-four seven, because I can’t afford for them, or for me, to forget and slip-up in public.”

“And talking of my slave-pets,” Stiles turns his attention fully to Deaton, “I need some supplies to help a delta through his heat while I can’t leave him home alone and unattended as that would not be in line with the proper care and husbandry of a werewolf.”

“Enslaved deltas don’t go into heat,” Lydia and Deaton both exclaim at the same time, “They are too distressed by the separation from their pack or mate,” Deaton finishes.

“Well apparently you’re not as clever as you think you are. Because Derek,” Stiles snorts, not noticing he didn’t call him Sourwolf, “tells me his heat is two or three days away.”

\------

It is Scott’s first morning waking up with Stiles as his Master, in the same cage as Sourwolf under their Master’s bed. He sees Sourwolf kneeling by the bars at the other end of the cage, waiting. Scott wonders if he should be kneeling there too, waiting for... Scott doesn’t know what Sourwolf is waiting for, Stiles never told him he was expected to do anything in particular in the morning. 

So far being owned by Stiles has been nothing like his training or his life with Allison. He wasn’t caned for speaking human, he wasn’t fed kibble except as the last meal before they bedded down for the night. Stiles said that he would be eating the minimum amount of kibble required to ensure that the WERES test would give a positive result; most of his meals would be the same as Stiles ate himself, and yesterday he knelt beside Stiles as Sourwolf did and was fed the same pizza that Stiles had. Stiles tore pieces of the pizza from his own plate and placed them in their mouths. Scott was a little freaked at first, being hand fed by Stiles, but then he thought he’d already been washed by him in the shower, and had the chain-mail pouch locked around his junk by him. He saw Sourwolf lick Stiles’ fingers clean after each bite he fed him and started to copy him; licking Stiles’ fingers after each bite of pizza he was fed, Stiles smiled at him and it made Scott happy to see that his Master was pleased with him. And seriously, he was being fed pizza, if it would mean he didn’t have to eat the kibble he’d eat the pizza off the floor.

Scott rises from the bedding that Sourwolf grudgingly shared with him last night and goes to kneel beside him at the bars of the cage.

As soon as Scott is beside him Sourwolf lets loose a low warning growl. Scott doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. Scott hears the thud of feet landing on the floor, he doesn’t know if he is doing the right thing kneeling there, Sourwolf wants him to move away, but his doesn’t know if that is the right thing to do either, he doesn’t want to get punished for being bad, but he doesn’t know what it right. He can’t stop the whine of fear and worry leaving him as he kneels there beside the bars of the cage with his front paws on the floor between his knees, his ass down on his back paws.

The strong scent of his Master surrounds him as he feels a hand tousle his hair, he looks up and his Master is smiling down at him; _did he do good_?

“Morning Scotty,” Stiles yawns.

“ _WOOF_ ,” Sourwolf barks, followed by a whine, taking his Master’s attention.

“Thirsty for your morning drink?” Stiles asks Sourwolf.

“ _WOOF_ “

Scott watched as he knelt there at eye level with Stiles’ crotch as Stiles backed away from the cage and stepped out of his boxers, his not quite soft length swaying as he strode back in front of Sourwolf. His eyes riveted to the scene before him as Sourwolf’s hand reached through the bars and guided Stiles’ cock into his mouth, his lips sealing around the flesh. There was a pause, a stillness as they waited. Scott could feel his heart pounding with the anticipation, while Stiles and Sourwolf seemed calm, their hearts steady. Then the air was filled with a pungent acrid scent mixed with the citrus burst of arousal. Scott could see the bobbing of Sourwolf’s ‘Adam’s apple’, see that he was swallowing, and realised... _their Master was pissing in his mouth_.

Scott thought back to before he was a pet, when he and Stiles were studying for the WERES werewolf husbandry exam, they were looking on the one of the forums and owners were discussing ways of making a slave-pet loyal, making **_it_** recognise who **_its_** Master or Mistress was. One of the owners suggested mixing some of your urine with their drinking water; that it _helped foster the pets loyalty, helped it recognise the scent of its Master_. Stiles had said then ‘ _why would you dilute it in their water then, surely it would more than help if it was given straight from the source_ ‘. 

Heated scarlet rises up Scott’s body as he remembers later that night when he was home alone, of drinking glasses of water, of lying in the empty bath tub and angling his body just right, of aiming the stream and _pretending_ that he was being taught who is Master was.

Scott is brought out of his memories at his Master’s words and Sourwolf’s growl.

“Sourwolf, you have to share,” Stiles scolds him, “Scott will be thirsty too and you can’t let pack go without.” Sourwolf isn’t letting go of Stiles, his hands firmly gripping Stiles’ thighs, his lips sealed around him as he growls displeasure.

“For disobedience you are not getting your treat in the shower,” Stiles firmly states, “and if you don’t let go now I will paddle your ass after your morning spanking.”

Sourwolf lets go; whining at the loss, and in apology.

Stiles takes a step over to stand in front of Scott. Kneeling there Scott can see that Stiles cock is plumper, fuller, more firm than when it went in to Sourwolf’s mouth. His tongue slides over his chapped, dry lips, he bites at his bottom lip staring at the cock before him. It won’t be the first cock he’s had in his mouth, he was trained at the Argent’s and some of the slave-pet brothels buy from them so the training covers more than obedience, but this isn’t about sexual pleasure. It’s about dominance, and accepting who your Master is.

Scott presses his face against the bars and opens his mouth, his Master slides his shaft over Scott’s tongue as Scott seals his lips around him. It takes a few long seconds until the flow begins, the bitter tang trickles over his tongue before the stream begins.

“Good boy,” his Master’s praise as warming as the fluid flowing down his throat.

 ** _And it’s more_** , it’s more **_powerful_** , it’s more **_meaningful_** ; _he isn’t pretending_.

Scott knows he wasn’t entirely truthful with Stiles yesterday, while he was being washed; but it’s difficult to be truthful with someone else about something that you haven’t been truthful about to yourself. His Master had said that he had never really given Scott a choice, but he’s wrong. Something that Scott never really knew about himself until he was being trained at the Argents’ facility, before he was bitten he always had a choice, his choice was always whatever would make his best friend happy.

\------

Stiles is finding it more difficult than he thought it would be. It’s not controlling them that is difficult. They’re both obedient; apart from Sourwolf’s growly tantrum that morning, and Scotty losing it in the shower, but neither of those things _were all that_ unexpected. No, it isn’t them, _well not exactly them_ , that’s the problem. It’s Stiles himself. Keeping his own nature in check, when they give their submission _so appealingly_ is proving to be much harder than he thought. _But even stiles has his limits, at least in regards to how far he’s willing to push his control over them, he doesn’t want to end up doing anything that he would consider abusing his authority over them_. Legally to be considered abusing his authority he’d have to cross some lines that he would **_never_** be comfortable doing. _Hell, Mrs Argent could have had Scott’s junk removed and no one would have stopped her_. He’d rather that Sourwolf, Scott and himself could come to an actual agreement about the limits of his dominance over them, but they don’t get to have a say in what he can and can’t do with them. He thinks they would be okay with what he wants, but they, and he, know that they can’t say no to him **_no matter what he wants_**. As long as it isn’t life threatening, in theory, but he is sure some owners get away with that _. So how can he trust that they would say no if they ever needed to?_

Derek getting all growly and jealous was something Stiles thinks he should have expected, with his heat approaching he isn’t gonna want to share him with anyone, especially since Stiles is the reason he is going into heat; and Stiles doesn’t want to share Derek with anyone either, he’s gotten pretty possessive about him too.

Scott was doing fine in the shower, sure there was less room with three of them in there and they kept rubbing against each other as he moved them around to wash them. But Scott did fine yesterday when Stiles washed him after applying the hair removal cream. Today, despite being told he is not allowed to come, he shoots his load all over Stiles’ hand as he’s washing thoroughly between his cheeks, paying attention to Scott’s hole. Scott didn’t even thrust into his hand. As he’s bent over Stiles’ left arm Scott gripped tightly at the wrist of the hand enveloping his hardness, the low needy moan escaping as his toes curled as his seed was released over Stiles’ hand and arm. He nearly further compound is disobedience by speaking human, but a glare from Stiles had left him whimpering in apology; and Stiles wasn’t happy with Derek over the incident either, at least he had the decency to look ashamed when Stiles caught him looking smugly at Scott. He didn’t punish him, he probably should have.

After they showered and were back in their room Scotty watched silently as Stiles gave Sourwolf his morning spanking. The only sound in the room the SMACK of Stiles’ hand on Derek’s upturned ass, and the gradual increase in the laboured breathing of both Stiles’ pets. Stiles saw Scott’s eyes widen as he realised that Derek was arching back up into the spanking.

“It isn’t a punishment,” Stiles gasps between the rise and fall of his hand on Derek’s ass, “I spank him every morning to help ground him.”

He sees Scott swallow thickly, his tongue slip out between his lips, his eyes widen in want and need.

As Stiles is holding Sourwolf after his spanking, laying kisses over his forehead, cheeks and neck, his eyes don’t leave Scotty.

“Would a spanking help ground you Scotty?” at his jerky nod Stiles tells him, “I need you to tell me Scotty, do you want me to spank you every morning like I do for Sourwolf?”

“Don’t use human words,” Stiles reminds him as his mouth moves to form ‘ _Yes_ ‘.

“WOOF.”

\------

Over the next couple of days life settles down.

The papers for Stiles’ owning ten per cent of ‘Argents’ Pets’ are signed and lodged with the appropriate authorities. Stiles will attend the first of the weekly meeting at the end of the week.

Stiles works out a schedule with Sourwolf and Scotty over the morning drink routine; Sourwolf will get Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, while Scotty will get Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. On Sundays Stiles will split it between two bowls for them to share.

Scotty gets better at controlling himself while Stiles washes them during the morning shower. His lack of control that first morning being down to how long it had been since Allison and brought him to release; apparently making him save it for breeding session that was planned. Scotty doesn’t look happy when Stiles says that he needs to see if the Argents still want to use him to stud. Stiles can say no, Scott belongs to him now, but he needs to be seen to be considering what is best the company that he owns part of; _after all Scott is only a slave-pet his feelings don’t matter_.

Stiles could see some of the looks he got with his two naked slave-pets following behind on their leashes. Allison comments on how happy Scotty looks as he and Sourwolf kneel beside Stiles at lunch; her own new slave-pet kneeling beside her. He asks if she is planning to use Jacob to stud as they had discussed using Scotty, or do they still want to use Scotty. She isn’t sure, so they agree that Stiles should discuss it at the meeting on Friday evening.

Then on the Tuesday night as Stiles and his dad sit down to dinner, with Sourwolf and Scotty kneeling either side of Stiles, Sourwolf goes into heat.

“What the hell,” Stiles’ dad exclaims as he looks over at the drip of clear fluid hitting the floor, the shivering of Sourwolf’s body as he kneels there with the liquid pooling under him, “Stiles, what is wrong with him?” his stern no-nonsense gaze turning on his son.

“Shit”

“Language, and start talking.”

Stiles rakes his fingers across Sourwolf’s head before cupping his cheek, the comfort he gives him through touching him helping to calm his quickly growing need.

“Ya see, Sourwolf is...” Stiles stops the lie he was about to say, his dad wouldn’t believe it anyway, Stiles can tell that he at least suspects the truth even though it goes against everything that WERES and the werewolf trade says. But the evidence is right there in front of him so, “Derek is a delta, not a beta, and he is in heat for the first time in since he was enslaved. So, once I’ve gotten him to eat I’ll take up upstairs and take care of him.”

“You’ll take care of him,” John Stilinski speaks slowly, calmly, “not Scott?” The flash of anger that cross his son’s face shocking.

“He’s **MINE** ,” Stiles snarls, “ ** _I_ take care of him, _I_** _take care of Scott_.” Both pets huddle closer to their Master, seeking to comfort and calm him. Sourwolf in particular needing the contact with his Master, his Mate.

“Stiles,” John quietly says, the reaction to his question surprising him; John has seen that reaction before, _he didn’t expect to see it from his son_ , when an owner was looking to split a mated pair of werewolves; he was loaning the female to one of the Johnsons’ breeding facilities. Neighbours had called the sheriff’s department as they thought someone was being attacked. The male did not want his lover to be taken from him and was reacting angrily, she didn’t want to go either. But neither of them had a choice. The heartbreak he saw in their eyes. The anger in the male werewolf at the thought of another touching his mate; the same anger he saw in Stiles’ eyes.

“I’ll take care of Derek, he’s my responsibility,” the words spill from Stiles’ mouth as he seeks to control his emotions, “I got some things from Deaton’s clinic to help Derek through his heat over the next few days. It’s probably gonna be worse for him when I take him to school with me, like there’s a choice, I can’t leave him home alone unattended, you can’t take time off work and I can’t miss more school after the days missed because of Kate Argent.”

“You know you need to report to WERES that he’s a delta not a beta, and I’m sure they are going to send handlers to check and see that he is in heat; because there are no known cases of deltas going into heat when they have been enslaved.” John can see the seething anger at the edge of his son’s control, “I’ll call them after dinner, while you deal with his needs.”

Stiles gets Sourwolf to eat some food, not as much as he normally would as his heat at this point has reduced his appetite. Afterwards, once some of the need has been dealt with his hunger will return. He takes his pets up to their room, Scott is nearly as clingy as Sourwolf.

Scott is in the cage under his bed whimpering.

Derek is face down on his bed, his cock cage removed, his knees bent as Stiles spreads his ass cheeks runs his tongue over his pet’s balls, along his perineum and teases the folds of the rim of his wet anal canal. He laps at the entrance, the sweet flavour of the natural lube urging him to probe deeper with his tongue. The need groans and whimpers from Derek as the need for both of them rises. Stiles searches one handed on the night stand for a condom as the fingers of his other hand play in the moist furnace of Derek’s wanton tunnel.

Cursing as he need both hands to sheath his hardness in the protection, he didn’t want to get his pet pregnant. He teased the head of his shaft around the relaxed opening of Derek’s canal until he was thrusting back with a growl to be taken. Stiles grabbed his hips with both hands, holding him still as slid back and forth between Derek’s cheeks, tantalising his needy hole until Derek was desperate to beg, whining in need until Stiles lunged into him. Stiles set a relentless pace, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming fully into him with each thrust. He reaches around his pet to take Derek’s own hardness in his hand, taking them both close to the edge again and again before allowing Derek to have his release and sating his own into the condom.

He allows Scott to settle on one side of him on the bed, the links of the metal pouch still locked on Scott sharp against his thigh; being next to him is all that stops Scott’s whimpering that was constant while he was alone in the cage. Derek is on his other side, one of the vibrating plugs from Deaton in his ass to help deal with his heat. Stiles will need to take him at least twice more during the night, and then again in the morning before they head to school.

\------

WERES handlers showed up the next morning while he was fucking Derek through another wave of his heat. Scott growled at them as they entered the room. They tested the lube from his ass and took some blood, the tests returned positive results confirming what Stiles already knew. Derek was a delta and was in heat.

At school there were some looks as they walked down the corridor. Derek was glassy-eyed and sweating, the plug vibrating in his ass keeping most of his slick from leaking down his leg. Scott kept comfort touching Derek, and Stiles; as if trying to transfer Stiles’ scent to Derek.

They are in one of the toilets at break time, they don’t have long and Stiles can’t take the time to build Derek to the peak of his need, the plug vibrating against his prostate all morning is going to have to be enough. Scott has blocked the door to stop anyone coming in.

Stiles is jack-hammering into Derek with short harsh thrusts as he nears his own release, to keep from shouting out he _instinctively_ bites down on the back of Derek’s neck, _marking his claim on him_ , as he slides his slick covered hand back and forth over Derek’s cock bringing him to release at the same time as he fills the condom covering his own hard shaft deep inside his pet.

As they rush to clean up Stiles doesn’t notice that the condom he wrapped in paper towels to throw in the trash had split, and that the plug he placed back in Sourwolf’s ass wasn’t _just_ keeping the natural lube from flowing out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #### Excerpt from Chapter-10
> 
> Stiles was at his first company meeting with the Argents. He was an owner of Argents’ Pets. Well of ten percent of Argents’ Pets. He was in one of the offices on the second floor of the store building in Beacon Hills. Gerard sat between Victoria and Chris on one side of the oval conference table; at the widest point. Stiles sat on the opposite side, nearest Chris. Allison sat opposite her mother. Even though Allison didn’t own any part of the company Chris had decided and that it was time she learned some of the facts of running the business and Gerard had agreed.  
> Allison had Jacob kneeling beside her. Stiles had Derek kneeling on his left, nearest Allison, and Scott on his right. Derek was still in heat and it was clearly affecting Jacob. Stiles had to keep a hand possessively on the back of Derek’s neck to calm him, the plug gently vibrating against Derek’s prostate helping to ease the effects of his heat.  
> Stiles had expected that Derek’s heat would have been tailing off. It was the end of the week and they had been taught in school that a werewolves heat, while the need ebbed and flowed over the days, increased to a peak and then waned as it came to an end. This was not proving to be the case for Derek; possibly it was like this for all Deltas but there was no information on a Delta’s heat cycle that he could find on google. It started at a peak and stayed there. Stiles’ use of the vibrating plug to try and control Derek’s heat was only just holding together, but every two to three hours his heat surged and Derek needed to be taken. Taken hard. If Stiles pushed beyond the three hours the heat became painful for Derek to deal with.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

After the first day of Derek’s heat Stiles had realised that there was no way he could deal with the demands of Derek’s needs on his own. _He was only human after all, well **mostly** human_. During one of the ebbs in Derek’s heat he discussed it with him. Well, with them. It isn’t as if there is a lot of privacy in their room and even if he and Derek had whispered Scott would have heard them in the cage beneath them, if he had been there. So, the fact he was in the same bed with them, and it might end up affecting Scott anyway, Stiles wasn’t going to talk about him as if he wasn’t there.

Stiles had a lot of trouble getting Derek to talk. Eventually the only thing that Stiles got Derek to say on the subject was that he didn’t want anyone but his Master to Mate with him. Stiles felt Scott relax at the comment. He couldn’t contain the grin that broke out on his face.

“That’s fine Sourwolf,” he smiled against Derek’s temple, “I wouldn’t let anyone else to Mate with you, or Scott for that matter,” Stiles turns to look at Scott, “Unless you want to have sex with someone else?”

“Woof, Woof,” Scott yelped beside Stiles on his right. 

“Scott, we’re talking,” Stiles turns to him and says, there is a slight fearful look in Scott’s eyes as he drops his gaze from Stiles’ face, “remember to use your words,” Stiles demands.

Scott looks back up at Stiles, unsure what to do as Stiles looks expectantly at him.

“I don’t want to have sex with someone else,” Scott’s voice is quiet and wary. Stiles kisses him on the forehead with a simple reply of, “Good.”

A low growl reverberated on his left.

“Okay, play nice,” Stiles carded his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“So, as you aren’t coming up with any suggestions about what to do when I can’t keep up with your need during your heat...” Stiles pauses, unsure that either of them will be comfortable with what he is about to suggest, but hopeful that they will agree. With any luck it will help them bond more as pack-mates, “so I was thinking how about Scott,” the fearful whine that Derek makes is not the worst reaction that Stiles thought was possible, close but not the worst, “ **Derek, let me finish! _I’m not suggesting that Scott gets to fuck you_ , I already told you that I would never let anyone else be with you like that.**“ When Derek calms slightly, his eyes still holding a look of worry, Stiles continued.

“What I was thinking is that rather than leave you alone with the toys, and no-one to make sure you are okay, you know in case you knocked yourself unconscious or someone else tried to take advantage of you when you needed contact, that Scott could be with you. At least to hold you while you meet your needs with the toys, and to protect you, just in case. He’ll still be locked in the pouch.” Stiles looks between his two slave-pets, neither of them giving their consent to his suggestion, “What do you say are you both okay with that?”

Neither answered.

“Okay then,” Stiles said, “Let’s just sleep on it, I’ve got school in the morning, and lacrosse practice after so you have until practice to decide. I’m going to need to lock you in the schools were-cells during practice though and It would be helpful to know if it will be together or separately.”

The were-cells were the eight-by-six cement walled rooms with the heavy iron doors that wolves were locked into when newly discovered during the school day to wait on WERES handlers to come and pick them up. They were also used when a slave-pet became unruly and their owner could not control them.

“With Scott.” Derek all but whispered.

“Okay Der,” Stiles kissed his forehead, “I just need to know your safe. Thanks for telling me.”

\------

Derek is resting against Scott. His back leaning into Scott’s chest as they sit on the bench in the were-cell. Their legs stretched out along the length of the hard wooden surface, and Scott’s back against the cement wall.

Derek sits between Scott’s legs, grinding his ass down against the bench as he tries to get the plug deeper. Scott’s arms are around Derek’s chest, stroking down his torso, and Derek’s head lolls back onto Scott’s shoulder. Derek’s cock lies hard and dripping against his abs. Their Master took the cock cage off of Derek before he locked them in the cell. Scott is still locked and aching in the pouch, despite their Master jacking him off that morning in the shower. The scent of Derek’s heat filling his senses and seeping into his pores.

“Sourwolf,” Scott whispers against the shell of Derek’s ear, “do you need one of the other toys?”

The spike in Derek’s scent and the whimper that cries from his lips the only answer Scott can get from him.

“The one with the alpha knot?” Scott asks him, it’s the one that their Master had bought especially as it is designed from an alpha werewolf’s cock, at Derek’s jerky nod of his head Scott untangles himself from behind Derek and kneels at the side of the bench. He pulls the bag of toys that their Master left with them over towards him and reaches into the bag to pull out the obscenely garish toy that Derek silently requested.

It is crimson red in colour, over twelve inches in length, the head of the fake cock is nine inches in circumference, and the shaft is firm and over eight inches around down to the large knot towards the base. The knot itself is eleven inches around. As Scott looks at it he can’t help but think ‘ _that knot is almost as big as my fist_ ‘.

Scott switched off the vibrating plug in Derek’s ass and gripped it tightly, pulling it from the grasping flesh. Derek’s hole gaped open at him, the self-produced lubricant sluicing down his flesh. Scott placed the head of the toy at his entrance and pushed it in easily. Derek’s body welcoming the toy until the knot pushed against the ring of muscle. Scott pulled back until just the head of the toy was in Derek and thrust forward again, Derek raising up to meet it, needing to feel the burn of it rubbing at his inner walls. Scott still didn’t push the knot into Derek, pulling a whine of need and desperation from the other wolf. He quickens the pace of his thrust in and out of Derek’s ass. The rising scent of Derek’s need pulling the wolf from both of them. Their fangs dropping and their claws pushing from the tips of their fingers. Scott’s eyes glowed amber against Derek’s electric blue. Forcefully pushing the knot forward and past Derek’s slick coated entrance to press itself against his prostate. Derek’s fist blurred in motion along the length of his shaft as Scott’s thrusts with the toy became short fast jabs; Scott’s claws feeling blissful as they scrape at Derek’s skin.

The skin pulls up around Derek’s sack and the ring of muscle spasms around the toy in his ass as Derek covers his abs and chest in his seed. Scott pulls the toy from him and cleans it with the supplies in the bag. He cleans the plug too before replacing it in Derek’s hole. The scent of heat overwhelming him he can’t help but use his tongue to lick Derek clean, his tongue sweeping along his abs and up to his pert erect nipples, biting them gently. Derek shivers as he comes down from the crest of heat. Scott settles behind him again, holding him close.

“Thank you,” Derek whispers so quietly he doesn’t know himself if he simply thought it.

“You’re welcome,” Scott replies, “It’s what pack do for each other, help each other out and keep each other safe.”

Derek turns his head and nuzzles against Scott’s jaw with an affirming nod as the door opens and their Master comes to take them home.

\------

Stiles was at his first company meeting with the Argents. He was an owner of Argents’ Pets. Well of ten percent of Argents’ Pets. He was in one of the offices on the second floor of the store building in Beacon Hills. Gerard sat between Victoria and Chris on one side of the oval conference table; at the widest point. Stiles sat on the opposite side, nearest Chris. Allison sat opposite her mother. Even though Allison didn’t own any part of the company Chris had decided and that it was time she learned some of the facts of running the business and Gerard had agreed.

Allison had Jacob kneeling beside her. Stiles had Derek kneeling on his left, nearest Allison, and Scott on his right. Derek was still in heat and it was clearly affecting Jacob. Stiles had to keep a hand possessively on the back of Derek’s neck to calm him, the plug gently vibrating against Derek’s prostate helping to ease the effects of his heat.

Stiles had expected that Derek’s heat would have been tailing off. It was the end of the week and they had been taught in school that a werewolves heat, while the need ebbed and flowed over the days, increased to a peak and then waned as it came to an end. This was not proving to be the case for Derek; possibly it was like this for all Deltas but there was no information on a Delta’s heat cycle that he could find on google. While there were waves that ebbed and flowed the heat had started at a peak and stayed there. Stiles’ use of the vibrating plug to try and control Derek’s heat was only just holding together, but every two to three hours his heat surged and Derek needed to be taken. Taken hard. If Stiles tried to push dealing with the rise of Derek’s need beyond the three hours the heat became physically painful for Derek to deal with. From what Stiles had read on female werewolf heats that two to three hours would be the peak; their first day would be five to four hours, rising to a peak of three to two hours before waning back down again as their heat came to an end.

Stiles just knew that another surge of the heat wouldn’t hold off until he got Derek back home. He needed a safe room that he could lock Derek and Scott in here so that when Derek’s need become too desperate Scott could help him through it while Stiles was stuck in the meeting.

“Is there a heat room in this building that I can lock Sourwolf and Scotty in while we have the meeting?” Stiles asks, as he realises _this is a slave-pet business, so, surely they have a heat room for the females that they sell_.

“You’re breeding them?” Chris asks, the incredulity that he feels pouring from each word.

“What? No!” Stiles shock at the question and horror at the thought overlays the tone of his reply, “Scotty will stay locked in his pouch and the ass lock I have in him is connected to the lock on the pouch. He’ll stay with Sourwolf and will look after him, to make sure he doesn’t accidently hurt himself. I have no intention of breeding Derek with any werewolf.” 

“Sorry,” Chris looks a little shocked at Stiles’ strident reply. Gerard looks amused, while Victoria has a fixed rictus smile failing to hide her contempt. Allison is blushing, Stiles isn’t sure if it is thought of her former slave-pet servicing Sourwolf or the evident hard-on her current slave-pet has from the scent of Sourwolf’s heat that is the cause.

Once Stiles has settled Scott and Derek in the room he returns to the Argents for the meeting to finally begin. They went through the formalities of the ratifying the previous minutes, then welcoming Stiles to the company formally as a member of the board and shareholder. Eventually they get to new business and ideas to improve the businesses viability in the current economic downturn.

“Now, one of the proposals I made previously to Allison’s dad, when she owned Scotty and didn’t want him docked and castrated was that instead of breeding the werewolves there was potential to reduce costs by maintaining a stud service,” Stiles ventures, “I think that still holds true and the long-term outlay for raising the stock would be gone. If we leave the breeding and raising to others, and we concentrate on providing them with the stud service to breed them, then we don’t have the costs of housing, feeding and providing vet services for the stock until it reaches an age we can sell it at.”

“Chris mentioned that idea to me,” Gerard’s gruff voice halts Stiles in his tracks, “we petitioned very heavily for the license to breed the slave-pets, and we have outlaid a very substantial sum of money in building the breeding facilities and buying the breeding stock.”

““Sell it,” the matter-of-fact way that Stiles says it takes all the Argents by surprise. He continues, “the cost of raising them from litter to sixteen just decreases the profits, is there any actual benefits to breeding in house? Just provide the stud service for a discount and demand first choice of the litter when it’s of age, provide for training of slave-pets and...” Stiles grins wickedly as he pauses, “provide training to their handlers to help improve their stock.”

“What would help sell those services,” Gerard grins back at Stiles, “would be if we could train their handlers to send their deltas into a heat. When we heard that the pet you bought from us was really a delta, and that he had gone into heat no less... well... the possibilities are astounding,” Gerard pauses a wry smile that doesn’t reflect the dark calculating look Stiles sees in his eyes, “we all know that a delta will not go into heat during captivity, so if we can sell that kind of training, now that will make your proposal work.”

“We can do that.” Stiles confidently states.

“We’ll need to prove that the process can be repeated though,” Victoria’s sharp tone negates the enthusiasm of the others in the room, “Arranging that would be difficult, we would need documented evidence of the training method and its success.”

“Then we get Stiles another slave-pet,” Gerard barks in response, “Another delta, and we see if he gets the pet to trigger its heat. He’s had the current one for what a month? If we get the same results in a month’s time with his new pet they’ll be beating down our doors to know how to do it.”

“I’ve already got two slave-pets,” Stiles says, “and I don’t want to replace either of them.”

“Don’t worry,” Gerard says, “you won’t have to.”

“What?” Stiles is confused, everyone knows that you aren’t allowed more than two.

“There are exceptions to the only two slave-pets rule, such as at the training and breeding facilities where one handler will be assigned three slave-pets.” Gerard explains, “There is one other situation, one that applies to private individuals as opposed to corporate ownership. If someone shows exceptional capability in handling slave-pets then it is possible to be allowed three. They would never allow someone to own four as the slave-pets will begin to display and fight for dominance. They would become a pack, having three betas with one of the four rising to an alpha. And that is something we all want to avoid.” Stiles feels something inside him uncurl at the prospect of having three werewolves under his control.

“Absolutely,” Stiles agrees with him, “we wouldn’t want an alpha getting their hands on three betas.”

“We could easily get Isaac back from his current owners,” Chris states, “they are always looking for fresh stock.”

“And I’ll own him outright?” Stiles looks to clarify, “No payment necessary, no returning him after 30 days, no small print I will need to worry about? He simply belongs to me?”

“For what you would be doing for the company it will be a small cost to us,” Gerard smiles, and Stiles can’t help but think of a predator stalking its prey, “he’ll belong to you, no conditions on his ownership.”

“Awesome.”

\------

Stiles is cocooned in the heat of two werewolves wrapped tightly around him in bed.

He’s waiting on his alarm. Derek’s heat ended over the weekend, just in time for Monday morning. Derek’s ass is empty for the first time in the last five days, no longer needing the constant stimulation from the vibrating butt-plug to help control his heat. Scott was still locked in his pouch and had the ass-lock fitted. Scott hasn’t had release for the whole term of Derek’s heat. And he’d had no problem helping Derek through some of the waves of his heat while Stiles was too exhausted to do so. Scott had certainly earned himself a reward for being so good.

When the alarm sounds Scott reflexively swings his arm out behind him and hits the snooze button. At Stiles’ snort of laughter Scott’s eyes fly open in worry and dread. Stiles hates seeing that look on Scott and Derek’s face. Derek last wore it when Scott was delivered by the WERES handlers, and he thought Stiles was going to breed him with Scott. Stiles realises that he needs to work out how to show them that they don’t need to fear his reaction to everything that they do. Especially if it’s something he would never punish them for, like hitting the snooze on the alarm when it goes off. _Hell, it saves him the effort_.

“Morning,” Stiles says as he kisses Scott’s forehead, pulling the frightened wolf into his arms when he finally feels Scott relax against him. Stiles wishes he could allow them to talk, at least while in their bedroom and it was only the three of them, but he doesn’t want the chance of any of them, including himself, slipping up in public.

“Whose turn is it this morning?” he asks fully expecting the ‘WOOF’ that quickly replies to his question from Derek.

The alarm sounds again, Stiles sends Scott to scurry after it and switch it off, playfully smacking him on the ass, as they rise and begin their morning routine.

Derek and Scott kneel before him. Scott watching intently as Derek drinks down Stiles’ morning piss. Stiles removes the ass-lock from Scott and allows them to use the puppy pads in the cage while he goes and starts the shower running. They brush their teeth. Stiles removes the cock-cage from Derek and the pouch from Scott. In the shower as Stiles washes them Derek is only half aroused after his week of being in heat. Scott is hard from the moment Stiles starts to wash his hair.

By the time Stiles has finished washing Derek, and he is drying himself, Scott is silently pleading with Stiles. His puppy eyes wide and sad, making what he wants clear from the dripping cock slapping against his stomach.

“Do you want me to make you come Scott?” Stiles asks.

“WOOF,” Scott barks his yes as Stiles says his name.

Stiles turns Scott from him and has him lean against the wall of the shower, he runs his own hard shaft into the crevice of Scott’s ass cheeks. Scott tries to catch the head of Stiles’ cock in the wrinkled skin of his hole.

“Na-a,” Stiles admonishes him, “you don’t have natural lubrication down there, and I’m not using shower gel or any other soap.” 

Scott whimpers at the thought that Stiles was only teasing him and isn’t going to fuck him into a release. Stiles feels a hand on his back and turns to see Derek standing there with the lubricant from the bedside cabinet. He leans over and takes Derek’s lips in a biting kiss.

Stiles quickly applies the lube to Scott’s hole, working his fingers in as Scott gasps and pushes back against him. Coating his length he slides into Scott and reaches around to grasp Scott’s own hardness, timing the thrusts into Scott with the movement of hand along Scott’s hard heated need.

As Stiles fills Scott, Scott sprays his own release into Stiles’ hand.

“Maybe I should put the plug Derek wore into you and keep you filled with my seed for the day,” Stiles breathlessly teases against Scott’s neck, bared to him in submission an offering that Stiles cannot ignore as he bites to mark his claim.

“WOOF.”

Stiles sends Derek to bring him the butt-plug, he kneels behind Scott and gently nips at the flesh of his ass as he slides the plug into Scott’s tight hole, trapping his seed inside him and stirring a feeling of glee from Scott.

\------

After they return home from school Stiles asks Derek if he wants to read one of the DC or Marvel comics. At his enthusiastic ‘WOOF’ Stiles tells him to choose one. He can see Scott is hoping that he will also be allowed to choose one to read, but Stiles has other plans for Scott.

Stiles switches on the playstation and watches Scott’s expression as the logo for Modern Warfare 3 pops to life on the screen.

“We were gonna play this together before you got enslaved, weren’t we?” he asks, hoping he’s surprised the wolf. The barely audible ‘WOOF’ causing him to look at his pet now on the brink of tears.

“You know Scotty, I’ve found that these games aren’t nearly as much fun to play when you’re stuck playing them yourself,” Stiles says. Scott falls silent, not quite willing to hope.

“You wouldn’t wanna play, would you?” Stiles asks, holding out the controller.

Scott doesn’t answer. He’s trembling as he stands before Stiles, the tears pooling in his eyes. He reaches out, wanting to hug Stiles, to hug and hold his Master, but the fear of doing something without permission is stopping him. Stiles pulls Scott against himself, his arms wrapping around him holding him tightly as his tears slide down the crook of Stiles’ neck.

“Is that a yes?” Stiles asks.

“WOOF,” is Scott’s still nearly inaudible reply.

“I love you too Scotty,” Stiles whispers placing a light kiss to Scott’s temple, and that’s all it takes for Scott to tighten his grip around his Master, to hold him as tightly and lovingly as Stiles holds him.

Stiles is little pissed off. He knows he would normally win against Scott, but in the three games they’ve played so far it hasn’t even been close. Scott is letting him win, and that isn’t what Stiles wants. He wants Scott to try and beat him, _to have fun_ and beat him if he can.

“Scott, if you don’t start trying to win I’ll put you over my knee and spank you!” Stiles gives him a long meaningful look, but he isn’t sure that his threat will work as he sees the wide-eyed hopeful look that Scott gets. Stiles playfully shoves at Scott’s shoulder and amends his threat with a grin, “In that case I won’t spank you for the next three weeks at least unless you start trying to win.”

The wide genuine grin that he gets in return and Scott’s attempts to actually win the game have Stiles grinning the rest of the night, happy that he’s finally starting to get his best friend back.

Scott can’t hold in the grin. He hasn’t felt this happy, this free since he was enslaved. As he sits on his ass he can’t stop rocking gently back and forth on the plug still in him as he plays CoD. He’s playing CoD with his Master, knowing his Master’s come is still in him from this morning and Scott couldn’t be happier than to have this moment with his best friend; with his Master, just like he always wanted.

Derek watches the interaction between his Mate, his Master, and his pack mate Scott. He knows how much Scott means to Stiles, he knows how much Stiles means to Scott. Both as friends, and as Master and slave. He’s glad that Stiles doesn’t want them to have sex with each other though. Derek isn’t interested in Scott that way, and he knows that Scott isn’t interested in Derek (except when he was in heat though Scott would still deny it). But Derek doesn’t mind that his Master and pack mate do, _he knows they love each other_. He can share his Mate knowing that he while Stiles and Scott _might_ love each other, _they aren’t in love_. Not in the way Derek is in love with Stiles, with his Master. **_His Mate_**. _And he_ ** _knows_ , he just knows, **_that Stiles is in love with him too_.

\------

Scott and Derek are kneeling before Stiles. He’s sitting on the couch in the living room.

They are just back from school and he’s working up to telling them what is going to happen tomorrow. He’s not making the same mistake he made last time.

“So,” he looks down at his naked slave-pets, collared and locked in their chastity pouch or cages, “Last week at the meeting I had with the Argents, while you were both in the heat room, I was pushing for them to move the company out of the breeding program. I wanted them to sell the breeding license and facilities and move into providing a stud service, and sell training of slave-pets and handlers to other companies.”

Stiles can see the worry starting to creep into Scott and Derek’s eyes.

“They were mostly in favour, however,” as Stiles paused a whine escaped both Scott and Derek. He cupped his hands around the back of their heads, threading his fingers in their hair and pulling them against him, “Sh, sh, it is okay, this isn’t anything bad I promise you.”

When both of them are calm again he continues to explain.

“What Gerard suggested was that, given it is now known that I am the first owner to have a delta go into heat, if they could promise to train handlers in my methods and prove that it wasn’t a once only occurrence then they would be in a better position to implement items from my plan for the company.”

The growl coming from Derek has Scott pissing the floor.

“ ** _Derek stop that right now_** ,” Stiles brusquely scolds him, “ _you’re scaring Scott, and you will be cleaning up his mess._ “

When Derek stops growling, clearly having worked out what Stiles is about to tell them, Stiles finishes what he was saying.

“So, Argents have arranged for me to own another slave-pet, another delta, and they want me to document my methods and have him go into heat. Any questions?”

“WOOF!” Scott yelps.

“You’re going to need to use your words Scott, I need you to speak human if you want to ask me something,” Stiles grins affectionately at him.

“Sorry Master, it’s weird having a Master who gets frustrated when I don’t use my words,” Scott blushes as he ducks his head down and looks up at Stiles, “Where will he sleep?”

“He’ll sleep in our room,” Stiles says, “I think at first it may be best if the three of you sleep in the cage, until he gets used to our pack. After that you can all move onto the bed with me, for good.” The growl from Derek starts again.

“Derek,” Stiles stares him down until he looks to the ground, his blue eyes turning back to hazel-green, “What’s wrong?”

“...”

“Derek?” Stiles questioning tone gets no response, “Sourwolf, you need to tell me what is wrong, _something is upsetting you and I need to know what it is if I’m going to fix it_.” Stiles hates that he sounds so desperately pleading, but he does need to get Derek to talk about what is upsetting him.

“I...” Derek starts and stops, unsure how to explain. He knows Stiles is his Mate, he knows he is in love with Stiles and he knows that Stiles is in love with him. But Stiles is human, he doesn’t know what it means to be Mates, even most werewolves never find out either. Derek is only beginning to understand it now, and what he felt with Kate is nothing compared to what he feels for Stiles, but how does he make Stiles understand. Stiles is human, he won’t understand how threatened Derek feels by another delta being with his Mate, “you... want another delta here... I don’t want you to... you’re my... am I not...” He can’t finish, he can’t say anything the words just stop.

“You’re my Mate Sourwolf,” Stiles says, “not any other wolf, and you will always be. And you are the one I’m in love with.” Stiles slumps down off the couch to sit on the floor and pulls Derek into a hug, “I mean I love Scott to bits, but he isn’t my Mate and neither is the new wolf, only you. But we do need to show him that we care about him, that we will love him and that we want to protect him. We can keep him safe as part of our pack.”

“Can you share a fraction of me with him like you share me with Scott?” Stiles pulls back to look into Derek’s eyes.

“I’ll try,” Derek promises.

“Good,” Stiles smiles at him Mate, “Now, I need to get up and go change before we go to the Argents so I can sign the paperwork allowing WERES to deliver Isaac here tomorrow. I don’t want to meet with Gerard smelling of piss having just sat down in Scott’s puddle. And you mister grumpy wolf can clean it up,” Stiles ruffles Derek’s hair smiling playfully at him, “while I go take a shower.”

\------

Stiles has just signed the papers to have Isaac delivered tomorrow morning. He’s sitting in Gerard’s office, Derek and Scott kneeling either side of him, while Gerard shows the WERES representative out.

Something about one of the icons he can see on Gerard’s computer screen is niggling at him, it looks out of place amongst the others. It’s the name under the icon, KWE. Everything else is APS, ‘Argent Pet Supplies’. So what is KWE... ‘ _Kellerman-White Enterprises_ ‘.

It has to be related to the business, right, and Stiles is now part of that business, so, there’s no harm in him looking, right.

Clicking on the icon it takes him to the Kellerman-White intranet, but into a section that is clearly only intended for employees. For highly placed, Director level, employees. _How does Gerard have access to this? And why does the icon take you to this particular page?_

 _Long-term effects of C32H43NO9 Derivatives_. Phrases start to jump out at Stiles, and what he reads chills him.

‘ _Lycans fed exclusively on the werewolf kibble are extremely docile and suggestive_ ‘

‘ ** _The docility and suggestibility is related to a change in the chemical balance of the brain_** ‘

‘ _werewolf becomes_ ** _permanently_ submissive to their Master** ‘

‘ _There was no discernible difference between bitten or born wolves_ ‘.

“What are you doing at my computer?” The question shocks Stiles from his miasma as he looks to the doorway to see Gerard standing there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-11
> 
> “Victoria,” Gerard’s voice carries out into the hall, Allison wasn’t planning on listening, but the next things she heard stopped her in her tracks, “he drank the water laced with the aconite. It had no effect he is human. It’s time you gave up your obsession over this.”  
> “He can’t have that much control over so many of those animals and be human!” Allison hears her mother seethe.  
> “Well he isn’t a werewolf,” her grandfather replies, “and he is helping our company.”  
> “The fact that he’s taken on your little project will be the perfect way to get rid of him,” Allison wonders what her mother is talking about, “he gets caught hacking into Kellerman-White and we get back all the company shares, and three pets to sell.”  
> “If you do anything to cause him to be caught you will regret it,” Gerard snarls at Victoria, “his training of the deltas could be the very thing that saves this company, and if we lose that we could very well lose the company.”  
> “What are you talking about,” Victoria rounds on Gerard, “just how much of the company’s out-goings have you been hiding from the books?”  
> “Never mind. He could be the way to turn things around, and if you do anything to harm that chance I will personally make sure you regret it.”
> 
>  
> 
> Allison slips past the office door, ducking quietly into the next office while she considers what she overheard. She needs to warn Stiles to be careful, to not trust her mother or grandfather. She also needs to dig a little deeper into the company’s accounts, after all her father and grandfather want her to take more of an interest in the company.  
> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Previously...

_Long-term effects of C32H43NO9 Derivatives. Phrases start to jump out at Stiles, and what he reads chills him._

‘ _Lycans fed exclusively on the werewolf kibble are extremely docile and suggestive’_

‘ ** _The docility and suggestibility is related to a change in the chemical balance of the brain_** ‘

‘ _werewolf becomes_ ** _permanently_ submissive to their Master** ‘

‘ _There was no discernible difference between bitten or born wolves’._

“What are you doing at my computer?” The question shocks Stiles from his miasma as he looks to the doorway to see Gerard standing there.

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can get the actual words to come out.

“You’re one to talk Mr ‘ _I think committing corporate espionage is a good idea_ ‘!,” Stiles flails at the elder Argent, he feels his wolves still beside him from the tone of his voice and the icy glare coming from Gerard, but it doesn’t stop him, “You are aware of the damage that could do to our company if you were found out right?”

“Keep your voice down,” Gerard hisses at him, “and don’t talk to me like I’m some naïve schoolboy, of course I realise what would happen.”

Stiles recognises the comment for what it is, knows it is aimed at him; Gerard thinks he is some green, wet-behind-the-ears school-boy who doesn’t know how the world of big-business works. And okay, he doesn’t know everything, but he isn’t unworldly and he does know that any corporate sabotage will be investigated and if linked back to Argents would be a disaster for the company. It wouldn’t help Deaton or Lydia either, as WERES would move in and rescind the Argents’ license to trade. Everything that Stiles is trying to set up for them to be able to free as many of the werewolves as possible would be undone with the addition of WERES handlers and guards transporting them to new locations of the companies that was taking over the Argents stock after they were put out of business for the criminal activity. Especially after Kate’s actions.

“ ** _Are you kidding me!_** **_After what Kate did the last thing you can afford to be doing is risking the company by hacking into a competitor_** ,” Stiles practically shouts at him, “ ** _why would you risk it?_** “

“Will you keep your voice down,” Gerard snarls at Stiles, closing the door. Derek and Scott crowd next to their Master, warily eyeing Gerard as they growl low in warning to the threat approaching their owner.

“Keep your pets under control,” Gerard cautiously instructed Stiles.

“ _They are_ , _my_ pets won’t move without _my_ permission” Stiles calmly stated as he placed a hand on the back of each of their heads, “It doesn’t look like **_you’re_** under control though.”

“You’re a cock little shit,” the gravel tone of Gerard’s voice is tempered by the smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m one of the few private individuals allowed to own three slave-pets, I think I have reason to be,” Stiles retorts.

Gerard outright laughs in response, “I guess you do,” he says, scrutinising Stiles before continuing, “I have my reasons,” 

“ _Care to explain_?” Stiles asks under a calm façade that belies the quick pace of his heart that both his pets can hear.

\------

Stiles is sitting in the internet café waiting. Derek and Scott are at his feet, both with their heads resting against Stiles’ lap. He cards his fingers through their hair, enjoying the gentle contented rumbling coming from both of them while he sits until he wonders ‘ _is that just a side-effect of the kibble?_ ‘

 _How can he trust that any of the reactions he gets from Derek or Scott are genuine and not something forced on them by the changes wrought by the wolfsbane used in the kibble_? Derek’s been enslaved for more than six years, and fed only on the kibble until Stiles finally bought him. Scott has been enslaved for more than a year and a half, again during that time fed exclusively on the kibble until he became Stiles’ property.

Both of them will have been fed the Argents’ own brand of kibble. The formula slightly different from the KWE kibble as KWE have exclusive access to the wolfsbane strains they use in the manufacturing process. Those varieties making the werewolves fed on it more pliant and manageable. The Argents’ kibble has similar, if less potent, results. The Argents’ kibble is also more expensive; they needed to grow the wolfsbane themselves as KWE had a monopoly on the supply of the variety they used. The setup costs of the farms to grow the type of aconite that would grow in the lands they had available, and would give similar results in subduing the werewolves, had spiralled out of Gerard’s control. The lack of sales of their brand of kibble, its retail price was more expensive than the KWE dry slave-pet food, eating into the company’s profits had driven Gerard to desperate measures. He was looking for something, anything, that they could use to make the KWE product less favourable.

Stiles wasn’t sure how much he believed of Gerard’s story. But he believed what he had seen on the KWE report, and he believed that there must be some people who owned a slave-pet that would be appalled to discover what the long-term effects of the KWE kibble were. Argent’s hadn’t carried out the same level of testing on their dry-food. They had only tested that the slave-pets were healthy, getting the levels of vitamins, minerals, protein, and _yadda, yadda_ , as prescribed by WERES. And that it calmed the slave-pets and made them easier to control. So Stiles had no reason to believe that it wouldn’t have the same long-term effects. Permanently warping their brain chemistry to make them dependent on their owner, their Master. **_Whether that was their nature before or not_**. That thought felt like a lead weight in the pit of Stiles’ stomach. _He loved having Derek and Scott to submit to him, but he wanted them to submit to him because they wanted to,_ ** _not_ because they had been drugged into needing to**.

Despite not trusting Gerard, despite _knowing_ he didn’t have the whole story, Stiles convinced Gerard to do nothing that would further harm Argents Pet Supplies, _the irony that he actually trying to help the liberationists free werewolves and bring down the slave-pet companies is not lost on him_ , and to let him find a way to get the information into the public domain that would not trace back to them. Gerard agreed. Now Stiles is sitting here waiting to meet the one person that can help him get this report off the KWE servers without it being traced back to who took it and leaked it.

\------

“Victoria,” Gerard’s voice carries out into the hall, Allison wasn’t planning on listening, but the next things she heard stopped her in her tracks, “he drank the water laced with the aconite. It had no effect he is human. It’s time you gave up your obsession over this.”

“ ** _He can’t have that much control over so many of those animals and be human!_** “ Allison hears her mother seethe.

“Well he isn’t a werewolf,” her grandfather replies, “and he is helping our company.”

“The fact that he’s taken on your little project will be the perfect way to get rid of him,” Allison wonders what her mother is talking about, “he gets caught hacking into Kellerman-White and we get back all the company shares, and three pets to sell.”

“If you do anything to cause him to be caught you will regret it,” Gerard snarls at Victoria, “his training of the deltas could be the very thing that saves this company, and if we lose that we could very well lose the company.”

“What are you talking about,” Victoria rounds on Gerard, “just how much of the company’s out-goings have you been hiding from the books?”

“Never mind. He could be the way to turn things around, and if you do anything to harm that chance I will personally make sure you regret it.”

Allison slips past the office door, ducking quietly into the next office while she considers what she overheard. She needs to warn Stiles to be careful, to not trust her mother or grandfather. She also needs to dig a little deeper into the company’s accounts, after all her father and grandfather want her to take more of an interest in the company.

\------

Stiles is jolted from his thoughts as the chair across the table from him is dragged out scrapping along the floor.

“So, what do you want Stilinski?” Danny asks as his Jackson kneels beside him. Unlike most people Danny has taken to having Jackson wear boxer-briefs; he didn’t always do that, he used to keep Jackson naked like most slave-pets are. But, Stiles knows he is still gonna need to test the waters, push some of Danny’s buttons before he gets to the reason he asked him here. And taking pot-shots at Jackson is always fun, Stiles still remembers what a douche-bag he was before and hasn’t really forgiven him, not yet. Though admittedly, no matter how much of an ass he was... not even Jackson deserves what’s happened to him.

“Nice to see you too Danny,” Stiles coolly replies, “how are you doin’? Your folks keeping well? I see Jackson’s back in diapers, isn’t he fully house-trained yet?”

“Look, that was an entirely different... **Jackson isn’t some FUCKING... Jackson does not need to be _house-trained!_** “ Danny angrily vents at him, “You said you needed to talk to me about something that affected Jackson; that it was something important, _if you just dragged us down here to jerk me around I swear to god I’ll_... Look, just because I don’t drag him all over town naked doesn’t mean anything Stilinski, you don’t treat your two exactly as the slave-pet handling course specifies; I’ve seen you feed them from your plate at lunch instead of giving them dry-food.”

It’s the reaction Stiles was hoping for, the outraged defence that Jackson was more than an animal. If Stiles wasn’t sure he could trust Danny before he is sure now, Danny is clearly protective of Jackson, and he’s seen how much better their interaction with each other has become since Danny first bought Jackson from the Argents’ store. He treats Jackson with _far more care than is required by the regulations_ ; his instinct is telling him he can trust Danny, at any rate he hopes he’s right, after all he’s about to ask Danny to risk his freedom, and Jackson’s.

“You’re right, I only give them the minimum allowed kibble every night, I feed them the same stuff I eat every other meal of the day, I don’t use the slave-pet brands of shampoo, shower-gel or any other toiletry, they sleep in bed with me and I let them read and Scott plays CoD with me. I love them,” Stiles says never dropping his gaze from Danny’s eyes, “but I found out something, something that affects them and Jackson and every other werewolf. But before I can do anything I need to get the proof. And I think _you_ can help me get it.”

“What?” Danny asks, then clarifying when he sees Stiles expression of confusion, “What did you find out?”

So Stiles tells him and in hushed conspiratorial tones they talk about the effects of werewolf kibble and exactly what Stiles wants Danny to do. All through Stiles explanation Danny’s shocked expression remained, and his hand never stopped petting Jackson.

\------

Saturday morning and Stiles can feel the tension in room as he awakes between two hot, _and at this point he is only thinking in terms of temperature_ , werewolf bodies. It takes Stiles a moment to realise the tension is because they had been talking, and that is what woke him. Now they are stock still lying against him on either side.

“Well, well, well, what are _we_ talking about?” Stiles enquires, disturbed by the worried looks on his pets faces, “Something has you both worrying, so what is it?”

“...”

“Guys, when something is worrying you or you’re upset, and I ask you about it, what are you supposed to do?” he asks when neither Derek nor Scott reply.

“We use human words to tell you Master,” is heard in stereo as both Derek and Scott reply.

“So why am I still waiting for one of you to tell me?” Stiles asks, letting the irritation he feels slip into the tone of his voice. He’s only annoyed because they aren’t talking yet, and their hesitation is just adding to his growing worry which is causing him to sound more annoyed than he is.

He can _feel_ them looking at each other across his chest, still not answering.

“If I don’t get an answer in the next ten seconds there will be no reading, no playing video games, no fucking in the shower, no...”

“I’m sorry Master,” Scott interrupts, _actually interrupts him_ , and Stiles isn’t sure if it was because he threatened no gaming or that he wouldn’t fuck him, but whichever it is he’s happy about it, “you didn’t give us any kibble last night and we were scared that it might show up if WERES test us when they deliver your new pet.”

“The additive they put in the kibble is still gonna show up in any test that they do today,” Stiles answers, he’s trying to keep his voice even, trying to keep his emotions under control, but the thought of having to feed them that stuff when he didn’t know what it was doing to them was bad enough, now, _now he can’t_ , **_he just can’t feed it to them_**.

“Why not?” it’s Derek’s voice asking and Stiles realises that he must have said what he was thinking and Derek’s next words pull the tears he was holding back, “It’s already too late for us, Scott and I have been eating the stuff for too long, it won’t affect us any more than it has. We want to stay with you. We belong to you, you’re our Master.”

Scott nudges his head into the crook of Stiles’ neck and then he is talking too.

“He’s right Master, you remember that first time you washed me... and we were talking...” he pauses as if trying to find the words, or maybe the courage to admit what he’s feeling, “you said you never really gave me a choice before I was bitten, but you were wrong.” Scott’s eyes flick up taking in Stiles tear stained cheek looking for confirmation that it is okay to continue, “I **_always_** had a choice, my choice was **_always_** to do whatever would make you happy, **_and it still is_**. I’d choose you as my Master even if I was human.”

Derek is crowding in close on his other side, placing gentle kisses to his tears as he whispers, “Me too.”

The sheriff had heard most of the conversation from outside his son’s bedroom door. Something about the kibble affecting the werewolves, and he didn’t feed them any of it the previous evening making the werewolves concerned that WERES would take them away. He entered the room and wasn’t surprised to find both the werewolves in bed with his son, he didn’t think they ever slept in the cage anymore. Not since Derek’s heat two weeks ago.

“Everything okay?” he asks, not expecting an honest answer.

“Yeah dad, everything’s fine,” Stiles tells him.

“Hmm, why don’t you three get washed and dressed while I fix breakfast and you can tell me what is wrong while we eat,” he turns and walks out the room not giving Stiles a chance to contradict him.

\------

Stiles knew letting his dad fix breakfast was not a good idea, there is nothing that hasn’t been fried on the plate. Sausage, bacon, eggs, hash-browns. And that was real butter he was spreading on the toasted bread. Before Stiles got to say anything his dad was asking questions.

“So what is the kibble doing to werewolves?” his dad asks before shovelling a large forkful of egg and bacon into his mouth. He’s fixed Stiles with that stare that declares ‘ _you will answer with the truth the whole truth and nothing but_ ‘, but Stiles can’t tell him without compromising his position as Sheriff.

Stiles sees both Derek and Scott looking up at him from where they are kneeling either side of his chair. His dad is looking at him expectantly too, but Stiles can’t open his mouth and say anything.

“Son,” his dad puts his knife and fork down, his eyes full of concern and determination, “something has you, and your pets, seriously upset. So either you tell me what the kibble is doing, and why it’s too late for Sourwolf and Scott, or I will take them to station, place them in separate were-cells and find out from them.”

Stiles just stares at his dad open-mouthed and frozen in shock. It takes him a minute or two to even notice the concerned looks on both his slave-pets faces.

“Dad!” Stiles suddenly exclaims, “You **_can’t!_** You have **_no_** right!”

“You bet I do!” his dad retorts, “I overheard something that sounds like someone has been contaminating werewolf kibble, something that you and your slave-pets know about. If you won’t tell me then I have every right to take them into custody to retrieve the information.”

His dad fixes him with his sternest no-nonsense gaze.

“So talk.”

Stiles knows he has no choice, but he has to make sure his dad understands.

“It’s not what you think dad,” Stiles pauses to think and try to figure out how to make things clear, “you only heard part of it, you don’t have the whole picture. It isn’t that someone is contaminating the kibble. **_It is the kibble_** , and they’ve known for years.”

“I found something on-line that showed that Kellerman-White have known for years that the werewolf dry-food they produce doesn’t just calm them,” Stiles needs to stop, needs to breathe and swallow down the feeling rising in him, there is no way he is able to look at his father or Derek or Scott while he talks, “Over time it changes their brain chemistry, it starts to make them need to obey and submit to their Master or Mistress, and eventually it affects them at the genetic level and **_the effects never wear off_**.” Stiles looks up at his dad, “It makes them so submissive and obedient that their own needs mean nothing, all that matters is obeying and pleasing their Master,” he can’t stop the tears, “ ** _They are people too dad, they’re not animals and no-one deserves to have that done to them!_** “

John Stilinski had stopped eating while his son explained what he had found out. He sounded so much like his mother, and then when he looked up at him with the tears streaming down his cheeks the words were almost exactly the same ones he had heard from his wife ‘ _Werewolves Are People Too_ ‘. 

“ ** _Don’t mention this to anyone_** ,” John says to his son, “But, your mom was involved with werewolf rights groups... she’d be proud of how much you care,” he looks fondly at the memory before quickly continuing, “I still know some people that are part of movement, if you give me the details I’ll pass it on to them.”

He sees the startled look on his son’s face. It’s quickly followed by the ‘I haven’t told him everything but it was for his own good look’.

“Stiles,” John says, the fond tone replaced by the stern officer of the law authoritative one, “What haven’t you told me?”

“I may have been contacted by the local werewolf rights group and I may have met with someone to help access the site where the information is so that they could retrieve it for me, so I may already know someone to pass it on to.”

The words just tumbled out one after the other.

“So,” John took a moment to collect his thoughts, “Let me see if I have followed the word vomit you just let loose. You have passed details to someone to allow them to hack into KWE servers and retrieve classified information, and you are involved with the Werewolf Liberationist Movement here in Beacon Hills, is that about right?”

“Can I plead the fifth?” Stiles asks.

“I am gonna kill Alan Deaton,” at Stiles’ wide eyed look John knows that it was the vet that got his son involved.

Before another word is spoken the door bell is ringing.

\------

The doorbell wasn’t WERES arriving with Isaac, it was Danny, with Jackson and his laptop. Overnight he had already been able to gain access to the KWE site with the details that Stiles had given him, and made copies of the report showing the results of what the kibble did to the werewolves who were forced to feed on it, which was every werewolf that had been enslaved. If a slave-pet was tested for the WERES additive and it wasn’t found then the owner was arrested for not properly caring for their slave-pet, and the only source of the additive was either the KWE or Argent dry-food for werewolves.

John Stilinski is shocked by what he reads in the report. The long term damage to the werewolves’ inability to function without someone having control over them, their growing dependence on having a Master to command them, it was just horrifying.

Danny continually petted Jackson sitting on the floor beside him, Stiles was doing the same to Scott and Derek. All three slave-pets were resting their heads on their owners’ laps, and it occurred to John that all three would have been fed this poison for more than eighteen months. For all three of them it was too late, the effects were irreversible.

They closed the laptop over when the doorbell rang again, this time with the WERES handlers delivering Isaac. Stiles, Danny and John were shocked at the sight of the slave-pet being carried in the cage, the three pets in the room couldn’t contain the distressed whines they made as Stiles directed the handlers to his room to move the slave-pet to the cage he had under his bed.

Isaac was thin, dangerously thin, his ribs sticking out through shiny skin. His back, ass, and thighs were covered in welts and scars that should have long ago healed on any werewolf. His chest and abdomen was covered in cuts that had scabbed over, some looking infected.

Stiles signs the paperwork and opens the ownership documents when the handlers leave. Stiles dad picks up the report and at the look on his face Stiles asks him to read it out so they all know how why he’s making those faces. The details of Isaac’s former owner, and their report on him, chills them.

Isaac had been owned by ‘The House of Pain’, a brothel specialising in slave-pets which were hired by the customers who wanted to whip, flog, cut, pierce, and inflict all manner of tortures on the slave-pet for their own amusement and arousal before fucking them. The report on Isaac stated that he had been one of their most popular pets since they bought him at sixteen. The customers loved to hear him scream and beg them stop; he begged and pleaded so beautifully. Recently he had started to lose weight and although the vet found no medical reason and they were considering having the pet put down.

Stiles runs for the bathroom. Scott, Derek and John rush after him, finding him leaning over the bowl heaving what little of his breakfast he had eaten.

“Are you okay son?” John asks, the concern and worry dripping from every word, and Stiles doesn’t believe he deserves it, “I know the report was horrific, and the pup looks in a bad way, but...”

“ ** _I’m no better than them!_** “ Stiles cuts across anything further that his dad was going to say, “I’m a monster just like they are, I like...”

“ **NO!** “ Derek and Scott both roar, before Derek continues the pain and worry that their Master feels thinking that he was anything like those sadists causing them as much as much pain as it did Stiles, “ **You are nothing like them, you don’t treat Scott or I like that**. You spank us, and you paddle us, but it’s always because we want you to and _because it’s something we enjoy having done to us_. We enjoy serving you just as much as you enjoy being our master. And you’ve **NEVER** done something that we ask you not to.”

Scott and Derek curl themselves around Stiles, wrapping him in their arms and nuzzling close, both trying to comfort and reassure him in any way they can. John goes back to Stiles’ guest and his pet, giving his son and his pets some privacy. He had already heard more than he needed to about his son’s sex life, _again_.

\------

“Sorry about the freak out,” Stiles says when he comes back into the lounge.

“No worries it’s all a bit... jarring for me as well,” Danny says, not quite able to meet his gaze so Stiles knows he heard everything that was said, or that Jackson did and relayed it to him. Jackson is looking sheepishly at the floor.

“So where are Sourwolf and Scotty?” his dad asks coming in from the kitchen with two bottles of cola.

“They’re keeping an eye on Isaac for me, he’s going to need the feeling of his pack after everything he’s been through, _not that we’re pack yet_ ,” Stiles says as his dad hands one of the bottles to Danny and the other to Jackson. Stiles doesn’t comment, he couldn’t let Derek or Scott drink from a bottle in private he’d be too worried of slipping up in public with them, **_but why?_**

Why did he doubt himself? Danny was at ease with the sheriff, Stiles’ dad, giving a bottle of coke to Jackson instead of giving him a bowl of water like you’re supposed to. Stiles would rather give Derek and Scott a bottle or can of whatever, he’d rather let them talk when they are in private, the two of them like just now, or the three of them, he’d rather they used the bathroom than the puppy pads. Sure, he couldn’t do treat them the way he wants in public, but why doesn’t he trust himself when they are here at home?

Stiles heads to the kitchen and takes two bottles of coke from the fridge, he puts them back and takes the zero sugar ones instead it will be healthier for them, not that it will necessarily matter for a werewolf, but still, and pops the caps off. He takes them to his room.

\------

Scott can’t help but lick his lips at the sight of the bottle of coke, the condensation running down the outside of the bottle. Derek is eyeing the bottles in Stiles’ hand warily.

When Stiles thrusts his hands out in their direction, offering them the bottles, the reaction isn’t what he expects. The shrink back from him, away from the bottles, and not gratefully taking them in their own hands.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles says with his brow creased in confusion, “Is it because they’re the zero sugar variety?”

“Why?” Derek asks, Scott looks at him with wide eyes; you shouldn’t question your owner.

“It’s healthier for you. I mean I , know it doesn’t taste the same, but I promise you’ll get used to it, my dad did,” Stiles replies. Scott looks between Derek and their Master.

“No Master, that isn’t...” Derek stumbles over trying to ask the question that he wants answered, “What I mean is, why are you giving us a bottle of cola when we normally only get a bowl of water?”

“Because, I want to. Because here in our home I’ve decided I’m going to treat you the way I want and not how society says I have to. I’m making changes, starting with giving you a bottle of cola to drink if I want to.”

“What if we don’t like the changes?” Derek asks, worried at the prospect of Stiles no-longer dominating him the way he has been, the way Derek likes.

“We’ll talk about it all later,” Stiles says, worried about their lack of enthusiasm and wondering if it is part of the effect of the kibble, “and if you want to talk to each other or read while you’re up hear watching over Isaac for me you can, actually, talking in the privacy of our room totally allowed, no conditions, and no more using the pads in the cage you are to use the toilet like regular people when we’re at home..”

He thrusts the bottles of coke at them again, this time they take it.

“Thank you Master,” coming from both of them.

“And when I get back we can look on the internet for something for you guys to wear, around the house and when we’re out,” Stiles says before leaving the room, and two slightly nervous slave-pets concerned at the changes their Master is planning for their lives and routines.

\------

“I’m going to head out to Deaton’s get him to come here to check Isaac over, and I’ll go drop the copy of the kibble report off while I’m out.”

“Deaton is on his way,” his dad says, “I called him while you were upstairs.”

“Okay... I guess I’ll go out later and deliver the kibble report,” Stiles wide-eyes his dad, he doesn’t want to let Danny know that Deaton is the were-rights contact he’s giving the report to.

“I want to go with you when you do,” Danny pleads with him, “I want to get involved with WLM, I can’t sit by while people are allowed to treat people the way Isaac was just because he’s a werewolf, or to put mind altering chemicals in their food, I need to do something.”

“I can’t take you with me,” Stiles replies, “I can let them know you want to help and then they can decide and get in touch with you.” Stiles is sure Danny is genuine, but Deaton, Lydia and the others are gonna want to be careful and check him out. They’d freak out at Stiles if he just turned up with Danny and Jackson in tow. Stiles will try and covertly give the report to Deaton when he’s here, and clue him into the fact that Danny wants to join up.

\------

When Deaton arrives he isn’t even in the door when he says, “Quickly, turn on the TV, any channel, it won’t matter which.”

Stiles switches on and instead of the scheduled programme there is a news bulletin.

“We repeat, word has just been received that a Canadian Werewolf combined force has invaded Alaska. Communication with any Alaskan authority has been lost and reports suggest that the state is now in Canadian or Werewolf control.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-12
> 
> Isaac sleepily awoke to an incessant buzzing, the sound of a hand slapping aimlessly against whatever it struck until the buzzing stopped. He was wrapped in the warm heat and scent of wolves, for the first time in almost three years he had slept almost soundly. He had still had the nightmares, but they were quickly banished by the tightening grip and close heat of the wolves curled around him protectively. The dark haired wolf about his own age, he thinks his name is Scotty, spooning against his back and Isaac has his nose pressed under the jaw of the older wolf, he isn’t sure if the wolf’s name is Sourwolf or Derek, at his front.
> 
> Isaac feels the solid metal of the pouch and cage locked around the two wolves in sharp contrast to the hard flesh of his own morning erection pressing against the heat of Sourwolf’s skin. He becomes aware of his need to pee and begins to try and disentangle himself from his bed mates to find a puppy pad to use when he recalls yesterday’s talk from his new owner.
> 
>  _Yesterday was confusing_. **_His new owner is confusing!_**


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Stiles was alone in bed. He misses the warmth of his wolves around him. He doesn’t like it.

Derek and Scott are in the cage beneath his bed with Isaac, just as Stiles had ordered. Wrapped around him to keep his thin, nearly skeletal, body warm. Deaton was shocked by the condition Isaac was in when he examined him last night. He had wanted to take him back to the clinic, to keep him there until he started to heal and put on weight, but Stiles had refused. Stiles wouldn’t... couldn’t let Deaton take him. He needed him to be here with his new pack, Isaac was _his_ , he was responsible for him and he needed to know Isaac was okay.

Isaac was still asleep when Deaton examined him, and Stiles was to take him to Deaton’s clinic today to allow him to make a more thorough examination of him. He’s only to be given light foods, small portions, but they are to be spread more frequently throughout the day. Stiles was worried that he might not be able to get Isaac to eat if he was refusing food at _that place_ , but he was glad when his new wolf drank down the bowl of soup that he gave him, even if Isaac didn’t take any bread when offered it.

Stiles didn’t get a chance to pass the report on the kibble to him, or to let him know about Danny’s interest. Deaton had an urgent case coming into the clinic ( _the were-rights group to discuss the situation in Alaska, or at least Stiles thinks so from the way he was acting_ ) and needed to hurry back before Stiles was able to get the vet alone.

After Deaton, Danny and Jackson had all left he explained his plan for the new rules he was setting with Derek, Scott and Isaac to his dad. He didn’t want him surprised or acting negatively, _though maybe he wouldn’t have anyway given what he now knew about his mom_ , if he heard them talking, or found them using the toilet. Not like walking in on them, just if the door was locked, he heard it being flushed and one of them walked out. Anyway, his dad was okay about the changes, for one thing it would save them some money as they wouldn’t be going through so many of the puppy pads, especially now that there were three werewolves in the house.

When he got back to his room, carrying four bottles of coke, Isaac was awake and seemed very wary. Derek and Scott were asking him how he was feeling, did he need water. He was looking frantically between them, scared, and his eyes only widened in fear when Stiles entered the room.

Derek and Scott more readily accepted the bottles this time, both thanking their Master for the drink. Isaac cautiously took the bottle, sniffed at it and watched Derek, Scott and Stiles drink before taking any himself. Not that he drank all of it like Scott and Derek did, and it was their second bottle of the evening. Stiles sat down in front of the cage, Derek and Scott were sitting to the side nearest the door. Isaac was reluctant to answer any question except with barks for yes or no, despite the fact that Scott and Derek were talking normally. Stiles had to order him to speak human, and even then his answers to any question was either ‘ _yes Master_ ‘, or ‘ _no Master_ ‘. It wasn’t what Stiles was hoping for, especially when he had asked Isaac what he liked and the only answer he managed to pry out of the boy was ‘ _whatever you wish Master_ ‘.

Stiles knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer until he had Isaac’s trust, and that wasn’t going to happen overnight. Rather than continue trying to get Isaac to answer his questions more openly he switched to explaining to his three wolves the new rules that they would be living by. He hadn’t expect that Derek or Scott would argue against anything he was going to say.

Scott looked miserable when Stiles said he was about to go through the changes to their rules and routines. Derek asked “ _What if we don’t like the changes? Can we suggest something else?_ “ Isaac and Scott looked scandalised that Derek dared to speak out like that, but netiher of them seemed as surprised as Derek looked at his own outburst; Stiles, however, was _ecstatic_. The possibility that they weren’t as affected by the Argent’s kibble as he had believed was a relief, though why it was only Derek that seemed willing to speak up was still a mystery? Stiles told them that he wanted them to make suggestions, but that his decision was final.

Derek questioned and counter suggested everything, well except for one thing but even that didn’t go exactly as Stiles had thought. Not that he vetoed any of Derek’s amendments, he isn’t _exactly_ unhappy about the outcomes.

Stiles started by telling them that at home they were no-longer to use the puppy pads but to use the toilet. Derek countered that it should only be when Stiles and his father were the only other persons in the home, and even then they should come and ask permission so that they knew it was being used by one of the slaves. It would make it easier on them as well as when outside or when others were in the house they would still need to ask for a puppy pad. Stiles agreed, when he saw Scott nodding in agreement to Derek’s comments, with the exception that if he was asleep they didn’t need to wake him and ask. He wouldn’t generally have wanted control over his submissive’s toilet habits, but it was something he currently did have and at least they were going to be using an actual toilet.

Next up was their morning routine. Stiles told them he was no-longer going to force them to drink his urine every morning. Derek asked as he was no-longer forcing them to drink his urine if that meant that those that _wanted_ to do so to would be allowed to. Stiles was surprised when both Scott and Derek said they still wanted to when he asked who did, Isaac was silent. Stiles dropped the other changes to the morning routine, he had planned letting them wash themselves in the shower, now he wasn’t sure that either Derek or Scott would be happy with that.

Next Stiles told them that they were allowed to speak human, and read the books and graphic novels in his room. Derek, again, said only when only Stiles and his father were the only other people in the house.

Stiles said that at meals they would have a place at the table. Derek outright rejected that, saying that how would they explain the additional places at the table if there were unexpected visitors, it would be more sensible to continue to kneel by their Master and be fed from his hand. Stiles must have looked dejected at this point as Derek said they appreciated the sentiment, that they knew he wanted to do this for them because he loved them, but he was happy being fed from Stiles’ fingers, he enjoyed the intimacy of his tongue and lips in contact with his Master’s skin as he took the food into his mouth. Scott actually spoke at that point and said that eating from his Master’s hand allowed him to feel connected to Stiles, that he felt closer to him, felt more than just his slave-pet. Stiles relented.

The one thing where they didn’t object, or rather where Derek didn’t object as he was the only one to speak out, was when Stiles said he wanted to get them some clothing that they could wear in the house and in public, and that he wanted them to choose it. They would look on-line and Stiles would order it for them. Derek agreed. Stiles left them to search the internet for what they wanted to order. What they, or rather Derek and Scott ( _Scott became very vocal on wanting some of the clothing begging Stiles to agree to some of his choices_ ), picked wasn’t what Stiles had expected, and was mostly from BDSM or fetish sites. It should arrive on Monday.

With the alarm ringing again he needs to get up and get ready to take Isaac to Deaton’s clinic. It will be Isaac’s first morning with them, and his first experience of seeing the morning routine that he follows with Derek and Scott.

  


\------

  


Isaac sleepily awoke in the cage to an incessant buzzing from above, and the sound of a hand slapping aimlessly against whatever it struck until the buzzing stopped. He was wrapped in the warm heat and scent of wolves, for the first time in almost three years he had slept almost soundly. He had still had the nightmares, but they were quickly banished by the tightening grip and close heat of the wolves curled around him protectively. The dark haired wolf about his own age, _he thinks his name is Scotty_ , spooning against his back, his arms wrapped protectively around him, and Isaac has his nose pressed under the jaw of the older wolf, _he isn’t sure if the wolf’s name is Sourwolf or Derek_ , at his front.

Isaac feels the solid metal of the pouch and cage locked around the two wolves in sharp contrast to the hard flesh of his own morning erection pressing against the heat of Sourwolf’s skin. He becomes aware of his need to pee and begins to try and disentangle himself from his bed mates to find a puppy pad to use when he recalls yesterday’s talk from his new owner.

 _And OMG! Yesterday was confusing_. **_His new owner is confusing!_**

So far nothing here so far has been anything like what he had become used to since he was enslaved at fourteen, well almost fifteen. He had recognised when his first heat came shortly after his fourteenth birthday, his mother had thought he might be a delta and had explained what to expect. The week he started she took him back to her family and he spent five days in one of the heat rooms under the house. His grandparents explained to him how his shy and eager to please nature were common in deltas, how he shouldn’t be ashamed of who he was or what he wanted. His mate, when Isaac found him, would want to know how to please him. And after all, it wasn’t uncommon in deltas to enjoy a little spanking.

He had two more heats that year. While a female werewolf, beta or alpha, would have two heats in a year, unless they became pregnant, a delta male could have two, three or even four. Isaac isn’t sure if he would have had four, based on the timings of his heats that year it’s possible. But while he was fucking himself on a dildo and pulling on the chain connected to the clamps on his nipples the WERE handlers burst into the heat room and he sprayed his release over the uniform of the guard that shocked him unconscious with a Taser. Isaac woke up in cage in one of the Argent training facilities. He wasn’t in heat any longer, and hasn’t been since. He soon learned that stubbing his toe, or his dad slapping him across the face wasn’t the only pain he didn’t like. For the past year and a half, since he turned sixteen and was sold to that place, he’s found there is a lot of different types of pain. The people that used him there were never interested in what would turn him on, only in how much they could get him to beg to stop; the only time he was allowed to speak was when he was begging them not to hurt him anymore. He spoke a lot there, _far more than he barked for ‘yes’ or ‘no’_.

Here though, with this confusing owner, he’s being asked to speak, allowed to read, and he isn’t being fed the kibble. The other two even asked about it when they noticed that the bowls weren’t in their cage but were set aside and empty. It was the only time he caught a familiar scent from his bed mates, one of fear and worry. Only it wasn’t fear of their Master... their owner, it was worry and fear for him; that much was clear from the look on Scotty and Sourwolf’s faces. But Isaac wasn’t sure he could have eaten a bowl of it anyway, he was still filled from the bowl of soup his Master... owner had given him. It was even the same soup, a creamy tomato and basil, that he and the other human in the house ate, his Master called him ‘ _dad_ ‘, so he must be his owner’s dad. They seemed to have a good relationship, like he used to have with his own father before... before his first heat.

Isaac was so confused by his Master. When they were eating Isaac was sitting on the floor beside his chair with Scott and Sourwolf. When they had finished, their Master was soaking up the last of the soup in his bowl with some bread, Scott had looked up at him with hopeful eyes. Their Master tore a piece of the soup soaked bread and fed it to Scott from his fingers, Scott suckling on them until he’d cleaned the remnants of the soup and bread. Their Master then repeated the same action with Sourwolf, tearing the bread and feeding it to him. He then asked Isaac if he wanted any of his bread. Isaac wanted, but he just shook his head no, and flinched from his Master’s touch when his hand rested on top of his head and ruffled his hair. He thought he was going to be beaten or punished like at the house when he didn’t eat. But he wasn’t, his Master just said to tell him if he was hungry.

At the house it was easy not to eat, he didn’t want to eat, he wanted to disappear, he wanted the pain of living there to end, and all they were fed was the dry-food. So he slowly began to eat less and less, giving the rest of his portion to the other two wolves in his section. And he was beginning to fade away, to no-longer be picked by the clients that came to beat and cut and whip them, to force them wide open with toys and fists, to hear their screams and see the marks that their pain caused. They couldn’t see the marks that they made on him anymore, so many of the marks that others had placed on him still covering his skin. But the food his new Master gave him made his mouth water and he just couldn’t stop himself from finishing it all.

The scents around him were confusing too. The wolves that were wrapped around Isaac smelled like their Master, they smelled like a **_pack_**. Not like at the house he was kept before, each of them was kept in groups of three with one overseer who rented them out to the clients. They never gained each other’s scent, always washing in the werewolf shower gel and shampoo, and the scent it created on each of them was different. They never smelled like a pack to each other. Here Scott and Sourwolf smell like pack, they smell like their Master. Especially Sourwolf, his scent and their Master’s scent is so entwined, so similar. Like Mates.

  


\------

  


When Stiles jumped out of bed chasing the alarm to switch it off Isaac was standing at the side of the bed looking worried.

“Hey Isaac, what’s up?” Stiles asked as he put a hand on his shoulder.

“...” Isaac stood biting his lip and fidgeted from one foot to the other.

“Isaac, please tell me what’s wrong,” Stiles pushes.

Isaac can see the worry in his new Master’s eyes, he seems genuinely concerned about him; now Isaac is worrying that he’s gonna be punished for not just going and using the toilet. But years of training are hard to break, now he’s supposed to overnight get used to talking again, and using a toilet again.

“I... Sir... Master,” Isaac stammered over the words, Stiles could clearly see that he was frightened.

“Isaac, it’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around the wolf, pulling him into hug, “just tell me what you need.”

The familiar scent of the wolves he had slept between, the scent of a pack filing his nostrils as he breathed in against the skin of his Master holding him calmed Isaac more than he thought possible.

“I need...” Isaac paused swallowing hard before continuing, “I need to pee.”

“Okay. Do you remember where the bathroom is?” Stiles asked him.

“Yes Master,” Isaac softly replied.

“Okay then, on you go,” Stiles smiles at him, “I’ll just start the daily routine for these two then we’ll join you in the bathroom to shower together, okay?”

“Yes Master,” Isaac nods as he heads out of the bedroom.

  


\------

  


Isaac is sitting on an actual toilet, using an actual toilet. He can’t stop the little bubble of a laugh that escapes him from the pure joy of doing something so normal. It stops when he thinks on what is happening back in the bedroom.

Scotty and Sourwolf are drinking their Master’s pee. Isaac feels his heart pound at the memories that stirs, the men and women that used him to piss on, or in his mouth, while they used a cane or a riding crop on him. He remembers the feeling of degradation, the vile odour and taste. He doesn’t understand how Scotty or Sourwolf can _choose to allow_ that to be done to them. He doesn’t understand why he _isn’t being forced_ to endure it.

When Stiles, Scotty and Derek enter the bathroom they find Isaac huddled on the floor, his arms locked around himself.

“Isaac,” his Master is kneeling in front of him as the other two wolves crowd on either side to offer him comfort. Isaac becomes aware of the scent of pack around him, realises that Scotty and Sourwolf are dry, and that they aren’t marked or covered in a fetid stench.

“Isaac,” his Master says again to gain his attention, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

 _How can he explain? How can he tell them about what has been done to him since he was bought? How things he used to enjoy were used against him and he doesn’t trust his own desires anymore_.

Stiles sends Scotty and Derek to use the other toilet while he chats with Isaac. He tells them to wait in the bedroom once they are finished until he calls them for their shower. Once they have left he pulls Isaac onto his lap. Isaac tenses at first then relaxes onto Stiles’ lap with his head on his shoulder taking in the calming scent of pack, _a pack he already trusts_ , _he wants to be part of a pack again_ , _to feel that safety that a pack gives_. Stiles wraps his arms around him and pulls him close.

“Something reminded you of _that place_ , didn’t it?” Stiles quietly asks him. Isaac shudders in his Master’s grasp at the mention of ‘ _that place_ ‘.

“I need you tell me what frightened you Isaac,” Stiles presses when there is no reply, “I need to be able to make sure you know you’re safe and protected here.”

“I...” Isaac’s voice is soft and child-like as he tries to answer, “I remembered yesterday... when you talked about what would happen... in the morning... you wouldn’t force them to... but they still wanted to...” Stiles can tell this is stressing Isaac, he can see in the reflection off the tiles that his eyes have shifted, he can feel the pin prick of claws against his skin.

“Ssh, it’s okay, just take your time,” Stiles tries to comfort him. Isaac closes his eyes, breathes in the scent. It helps to calm him, knowing that he didn’t do to Scotty and Sourwolf what he thought was going to happen.

“So I knew that they were drinking your... and it reminded me of some of them forcing me to drink theirs... and on me, they said to cover up the stink of dog, and when they were making me drink or covering me they would use whips, or cane, and beat me with them, and I thought that was what you were doing to Scotty and Sourwolf and...” Isaac panics, and realising he just told his new Master what he thought he was doing with his other slave-pets _he knows he’s gonna be punished_.

“Ssh, it’s okay Isaac,” Stiles grips him tighter and he lightly kisses his forehead, “It’s okay Isaac, it’s okay.”

“Please don’t beat me,” he sobs into Stiles’ shoulder, “I’ll be good daddy I promise.”

“Isaac, I’m **never** going to beat you,” Stiles says, “We’re pack, we’re pack and pack takes care of each other.” Scott and Derek enter the bathroom at this point, clearly having listened to everything that was said from the other room, the look on their faces filled with concern and torment over Isaac. They fit themselves around Isaac and Stiles, surrounding him, and giving him comfort as only a pack can.

  


\------

  


Isaac smells the spike in arousal Scotty and Derek, the cock cage and pouch have been removed from them. They are waiting as their Master adjusts the temperature in the shower. He is going to wash them and this is causing both of them to get hard. They are standing with their arms wrapped around themselves practically whining with need. Something about the scent coming for Derek is familiar, as Isaac glances over at him his shocked gasp causes their Master to turn and look at what has caused Isaac to cry out.

“I see you two are expecting some fun in the shower today,” Stiles walks over to Derek, “Are you all wet for me Der?” he growls in his ear. Stiles looks at both Derek and Scott, smirking at them as they blush, the colour rising on their skin.

“I think we are missing a few supplies if you are both expecting me to take care of you,” Stiles comment, “Aren’t we?”

Derek reaches over to the cabinet on the wall opposite the shower and pulls out a little foil packet.

“I placed one here last night while I used the toilet,” his blush deepens as he speaks. Scott’s embarrassed yet hopeful look is no better than Derek’s.

“I put some lube in myself after using the other toilet earlier,” his words falling out of his mouth in a rushed tumble.

Isaac can see the heated look their words and actions have caused in their Master, the want in his eyes, his scent and the rising hardness between his legs, and his words...

“Show me,” he growls at Scott, his voice deep with need, “turn around, bend over and spread your cheeks apart so I can see your hole glistening as much as Derek’s is.”

Scott does, his eyes shifting as he holds himself in check, turning for his Master, to display himself and how much he wants his Master’s attention for all of them to see.

  


\------

  


Derek and Scott are dried and locked back in their cock cage and pouch. They are back in the bedroom now leaving Isaac alone with their Master in the shower. Isaac hasn’t had time to think about the fact that Derek is a delta like he is, only Derek is lubricating when he is aroused. Isaac hasn’t done that since he was fourteen. Is Derek having his heats too? Everyone said that enslaved deltas don’t.

Stiles is massaging the shampoo into Isaac’s scalp and Isaac hasn’t felt so relaxed and nervous at the same time; he can’t catch his thoughts, all he can do is feel. He watched his Master take both Scott and Derek earlier, bringing them both to release before washing them under the shower as he is now doing with Isaac. Using the normal human shower gel and shampoo, the same shampoo he used on himself. But he hasn’t fucked Isaac as he had either of the other two. And Isaac is hard, and that hasn’t happened for a while, the aching need deep in him that he had all but forgotten about. The languid, gentle caresses of his Master’s hands as he washes him isn’t helping Isaac’s state.

“Everything okay Isaac?” Stiles asks. He knows his new wolf is aroused, it’s obvious. He’s getting there again himself.

“Ma... Master?” Isaac stutters against him.

“Do you want me to take care of anything for you?” Stiles asks, hushed voice against Isaac’s neck, just under his ear.

Isaac has never had someone else ‘ _take care_ ‘ of him. He’s been used before, multiple times, but what he saw earlier between his Master and Scotty and Sourwolf wasn’t them being used. Their Master took care of them, wanted to give them pleasure like he is doing for Isaac now, _like he is offering to take care of him now_.

“Please Master,” Isaac whines his need.

“I can’t take you like I did Scott and Derek,” Isaac whimpers at the thought he isn’t going to be allowed the release they received, “We don’t have any lube in here, and you aren’t self-lubricating like Derek is; and even if you were we don’t have another condom. So, how about I use my mouth and hand?”

At Isaac’s startled gasp of ‘please’ his Master falls to his knees in front of him and takes him into the moist warmth of his mouth, one hand caressing his balls and the other working back and forth along the shaft. It doesn’t take long until Isaac is nearing release. The feel of his Master’s mouth sucking on the head of his cock, his tongue swirling over the sensitive glans. He tries to shout a warning to his Master that he’s close, but he can’t form the words.

Stiles can tell that Isaac is close, he backs off of his cock, working it just with his hand, running his thumb over the head, slick with his spit and Isaac’s pre-come.

“Come for me Isaac,” and Isaac spills his seed over Stiles’ chest and neck, “Such a good obedient boy.”

Stiles stands running his hand through Isaac’s come, coating his hand in the seed covering his chest and neck.

“Kneel for me Isaac,” Stiles steadies Isaac as he kneels before him, unsteady in the aftermath of his orgasm. Stiles takes his come coated hand and works his own hardness until he marks Isaac with his own seed.

“Master,” Isaac gasps as the scent coats him.

Stiles trails his fingers through his cum coating Isaac’s skin, spreading his scent and essence across more of body.

“Tell me Isaac,” Stiles voice deep and breathy, “Do you want to wash me off your skin, or will you wear my cum on you all day, smell like me all day?”

“Master,” Isaac voice waivers, torn between what he wants and the embarrassment it could cause. Why doesn’t his Master just tell him what to do? He hasn’t been given a choice for so long he doesn’t know the right answer, but his wolf knows it wants to smell like his alpha, wants to be part of a pack and smell like pack, “I want to smell like you Master.”

Stiles pulls Isaac to stand beside him, taking his lips in kiss. Isaac opens his mouth in submission, as Stiles growls his claim. At Isaac’s tilted head and bared neck Stiles acts on instinct and seals his claim with his teeth, biting into the tender flesh of the boy’s neck.

“ ** _Mine_**.”

Neither of them see Stiles’ eyes shift to red with his mouth still on Isaac’s neck at the mark he made as Isaac’s alpha. The same mark he had previously made on Scott. Only his claim of Derek was different, where he bit Derek on the back of the neck while he came inside him.

  


\------

  


Isaac shrunk back against his alpha, his master, as they entered the bedroom and the two wolves waiting in the room inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. His master’s hands rested on his waist, the touch calming Isaac. Derek and Scott are kneeling by the cage.

“Go wait with Sourwolf and Scotty while I get dressed,” Stiles instructs Isaac.

Isaac immediately places himself between the other two. Derek and Scott can both pick out the scent of pack from Isaac, their alpha’s scent, their Master’s scent, mixed with Isaac’s own. They lean into their pack’s new wolf, nuzzling and scenting him further. Isaac basks in the attention that he has missed for so long, savouring the comfort of pack.

“Do you want a cock cage Isaac? like Scott and Derek wear,” Isaac hears his Master ask him as he is leaning into the feel of Scott nipping along his jawline.

“Scott,” Isaac breathlessly says, lost in the comforting feelings the attention of Scott and Derek are paying him.

“Okay, I think I have a spare one of those lying around here,” it takes a moment for Isaac to realise what his Master just said, what he had asked and that when he voiced Scott’s name his Master has taken that as Isaac’s answer to his question. Isaac is surprised that the thought doesn’t fill him with worry; instead he feels a thrill rush through him at the prospect of his alpha, his Master, locking him in a chastity pouch like his pack-mate.

Isaac can feel his heart thudding in his chest. The feel of the chain-mail pouch now locked around his cock and balls making his blood flow and try to expand and fill his shaft. But it’s trapped and can’t fill, can’t harden, and that just fuels his excitement.

“So, I think given our new rules that rather than me just pick which of you two get your morning spanking first we should make a game out of it,” Stiles smiles at Derek and Scott as he sits in his chair, “which ever one of you begs the absolute most finest will get spanked first.”

Before Scott can even think how to start Derek has thrown his naked form at Stiles’ feet and the words tumble from him leaving both Stiles and Scott wide-eyed in surprise.

“Spank me Master, please, I want to feel the sting of your palm against my ass, **_I need to feel it_** , I know you remember that first time you spanked me, remember how I hardened under the feel of your hand falling steadily and firmly as you heated and coloured the globes of my ass. How close you brought me to release just from feel of your hand hitting each cheek, I know you felt me harden and throb under your touch, how I raised up into your strikes as you smacked me, naked and hard over your lap. _Please Master I need to be over your lap, I need you to spank me and make me know I’m yours_.” Derek wins before Scott even says one word.

Isaac watches as first Derek then Scott happily place themselves over their Master’s knee. He listens to the pleasurable sounds they make, the gasps and sighs, as their Master’s hand smacks and spanks them, falling soft at first then rising in force until it is raining down on their upturned butts. He watches as the skin heats and colours, turning steadily from pink to heated red, sees how they push their asses up towards the falling hand begging their Master for more.

This used to be a fantasy of his, lying over someone’s knee and feeling their hand fall on his ass, over and over, until he sprayed his release. Seeing the constricted fullness of Derek’s cock-cage and Scott’s chastity pouch, feeling the constriction of his own, he thinks this could be one of his fantasies again.

  


\------

  


Allison has Jacob kneeling on the floor beside her chair. She runs her fingers through the hair on his head and he leans into the touch smiling up at her. She smiles back at him before returning her gaze to the computer screen in front of her.

“If only you could read and write,” she muses knowing that it isn’t possible. Jacob was raised in a werewolf training facility and they don’t teach slave-pets to read and write, they don’t need to know that, “Maybe if you could then you would be able to look at this and tell me I’m wrong.”

But she knows she isn’t wrong. The ledgers just don’t balance, and the figures don’t make sense. The accounts payable just doesn’t match up to what she can see having left the bank accounts. The accounts receivable should mean that the balances in the actual bank accounts should look a lot healthier than they do, if the accounts payable matched the outflow. But it doesn’t; and the discrepancy is not small. It’s huge.

She needs someone she can trust to check what she has found. But who can she trust? Clearly her mom and grandfather know something is wrong in the finances, so she can’t go to them. But does her father know?

Stiles now owns part of the company. He’d be liable for some of the debt if the company goes under. She needs to take this to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpt from Chapter-13
> 
>   
>  Jackson can deny it all he wants, Danny **_knows_** that he is pouting. It would be so easy to just give in, but he can’t and it doesn’t matter how much he might want to he knows now how wrong that would be.
> 
> From the fact that Jackson didn’t argue with him, _he just got that hurt look on his face and accepted that Danny didn’t want to_ , Danny knew the only reason that Jackson ever did it was because Danny wanted him to, because Danny _owned_ him and that Danny was his _Master_.
> 
> He’d allowed himself to think that Jackson actually cared about him, loved him; that he had been forgiven for the way he had treated Jackson when he first bought him. He had been so angry at Jackson then, and really he knew it wasn’t Jackson’s fault that he was born a werewolf and that the bullying Jackson had made stop had restarted, with a vengeance, after Jackson had been captured by WERES.
> 
> Ever since Stiles brought the KWE information to his attention Danny has ended up questioning everything he thought he knew. So when Jackson got down on his knees in front of Danny in the shower that morning Danny couldn’t let him. No matter how good Jackson’s got, how talented he’s become with his mouth and tongue. Sunday morning shower sex may have become part of their routine, but Danny had to say no.
> 
>  


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter, again, and again, and again.
> 
> Notes at the end to translate the text speak into English.

Isaac was kneeling beside Scotty and Sourwolf on the floor of the kitchen beside the chair their alpha, their Master, was sitting in. The smell of the eggs and bacon actually made his stomach grumble, the sound brought a smile to his Master’s face.

At first Isaac expected that they would get whatever was left over from their Master’s breakfast, if they got any of it at all. But the next thing he knew a piece of toast dipped in the running yolk of an egg, it even had a bit of bacon on it, was under his nose, all held between his Master’s fingers. He looked up to see him looking expectantly at Isaac.

“Open up,” his alpha said. Automatically Isaac obeyed and Stiles’ fingers slide into his mouth, with the taste of egg, bacon and toast sliding over his tongue, Isaac couldn’t help but close his mouth, wrapping his lips around his Master’s fingers as he licked every last tasty morsel off of them, his eyes closed in delight at the flavours coating his tongue.

He has a brief flash of panic when he realises what he’s done. He wasn’t told he could eat this, only to open his mouth. What if his Master is angry with him? With trepidation he opens his eyes only to find his Master smiling at him.

“Did you enjoy that?” his Master asks him, reprimanding him when he nods, “Isaac, use your words.”

“Yes Master, thank you,” Isaac smiles back, thinking that maybe he should have known from the way he has been treated since he arrived here that his alpha wouldn’t have been angry with him. Everything is different here to how he is used to being treated since he was enslaved three years ago. But three years of ingrained reactions are difficult to shake off.

Stiles gives Derek and Scott each two slice of bacon and an egg between two slices of buttered toast. He intends to keep hand feeding small pieces of food to Isaac to make sure he doesn’t eat too quickly, and to make sure he actually eats.

They clean up after breakfast and Stiles is trying to find something in his closet for them to wear to Deaton’s. Derek is telling him that they don’t need to wear anything, saying that they are used to being naked and can wait until the clothing he has ordered for them to arrive before going out wearing clothes, when Stiles’ cell phone pings. It’s a message from Allison 

To Stiles: cn u mma d 3:] prk?

To Allison: takN Isaac 2 d vet 4 ck-^. wl txt wen lEvN der. S somit ^?

To Stiles: no prob. wl tlk wen u gt der.

To Allison: K

Stiles is curious as to why she meet there as he knew that she only went to the park when she was worried about something.

He gives up trying to get his wolves into clothes, especially after Derek stands there with a pair of Stiles’ boxer-briefs pulling at the waist band saying “ _No Fit_ “ over and over. So they would have been slightly tight on Derek and loose on Isaac, but surely that was better than having to walk around naked? Apparently not. Derek going so far as to say “Maybe the three of us like the idea of walking around naked and distracting our Master with our hot werewolf bodies.”

Stiles could only gape open mouthed at him until he was reminded by Derek that they would be late for the appointment at Deaton’s.

They piled into the jeep, Scott and Isaac in the back and Derek sitting beside Stiles in front.

\------

Being a Sunday there is no clients at Deaton’s when Stiles parks outside. He leads his three wolves, and just that thought ‘his three wolves’ makes him grin like an idiot, in as he opens the unlocked door.

“You’re late,” Lydia snaps at him as he is closing the door behind them.

“Had a problem trying to get these three to wear clothes,” Stiles casually replies, “and I wasn’t expecting you to be here, just Deaton.”

“I do work here as the receptionist,” she all but snarls in response, “and they are all still naked.”

“Because it turns out my clothes don’t fit them, and the clothes I’ve ordered for them haven’t arrived yet, not to mention that they weren’t all that fond of the idea anyway,” Stiles whole tone and expression saying ‘ _well dah!_ ‘, and yes he knew she worked here part time as a receptionist but Stiles was sure that was more as a cover for her being part of the liberationists, “I’m seriously starting to question the wisdom in letting them pick the clothes they wanted. Is Deaton through the back?” Stiles asks brushing past her, his pack following closely to their alpha.

“Yes, Deaton is in the back room, he’s waiting on you,” Lydia doesn’t comment on letting the wolves pick their own clothes, as far as she was concerned they should pick their own clothes. They should be free.

Lydia locks the door before following Stiles and the wolves through to the examination room.

Isaac is immediately nervous as they enter the sterile examination room, its cold white walls and steel furnishings were more than unwelcoming. His hand instantly grabbing onto his nearest pack mate. Scott holds his hand tightly, giving him a small smile as he moves closer to the scared delta. Scott wraps one arm around the thin delta’s waist while keeping hold of his hand, giving his pack mate the comfort and support he needs, placing a kiss on Isaac’s cheek as he nuzzles at his jaw, wanting to speak and tell him that everything will be okay but they aren’t at home, they are out in public and he won’t risk getting Stiles in trouble with WERES.

“Hello Isaac,” Deaton greets him, “You won’t remember but I examined you yesterday in Stiles’ bedroom...”

“It’s their bedroom too,” Stiles interrupts him.

“Of course,” Deaton deferentially replied, “I didn’t mean to imply that you made them sleep in kennels outside as some owners do.” All Stiles heard was the way Deaton would talk to any client bringing in their slave-pet for treatment, the implication that he thought his pack were animals, that he was just another slave-pet owner.

The whimper from Isaac had Derek and Scott lean in against him, comforting the trembles from him as they growled at Deaton, feeling the anger rise in their alpha.

“I would never treat my pack like that,” he snarled, “I may _legally_ own three werewolves Doc, _but you know why that is_ , and you know I believe werewolves are people not animals.”

“Shit,” Lydia exclaimed.

Derek, Scott and Isaac were behind Stiles so they didn’t see what Deaton and Lydia had. Stiles eyes had shifted and glowed red.

“Stiles,” Deaton’s voice his regular unreadable tone, the one Stiles always feels is hiding more than words are revealing, “you need to calm down. I was **_not_** suggesting that you thought werewolves are animals.”

Stiles wasn’t even sure why he was so angry. For all Deaton knew he was still treating his pack like any slave-pet owner would, he didn’t know that he was now treating them how he wanted; how they deserved to be treated. Well as far as he could with each of them affected by the kibble, _and Deaton didn’t know about the kibble yet_. There was no reason for Deaton to talk to them like Stiles was anything other than a regular slave-pet owner in front of Derek, Scott and Isaac. It was exactly how Stiles had been acting since he bought Derek.

He tried to calm himself, but the anger he felt wasn’t fading. He’d snapped at Deaton before he had even finished talking, and Stiles realised the anger he was feeling wasn’t at Deaton; it was at himself for not treating Derek and Scott as more than animals from the start. And with that realisation the tension in the room eased, but the wolves picked up the change of scent from their alpha; the tinge of regret, the sourness of it.

Derek and Scott instantly move to their alpha, the small whine escaping them. Isaac too can’t stall the whine that leaves him, he feels the pull of the need to help his alpha. The feeling of pack and belonging that he hasn’t felt for so long, and he can’t help but wonder how it has grown so strong in only a day. The trust that is growing in him for his human owner, his Master, and the acceptance of the human as his alpha. He moves in to crowd around him just behind Scott and Derek.

Deaton watched the scene before him. He saw the shocked look on Lydia’s face when she noticed his eyes and he quickly signalled her to remain silent. But if what he now believed to be happening were true... _no, he can’t speculate_ , he needs to be certain, and he needs Stiles to stay in control of his emotions.

“I need to examine Isaac, to complete the examination I partially carried out yesterday,” Deaton stated, “And then Stiles you and I need to talk.”

“I expect you to answer any of the Doc’s questions completely honestly,” Stiles says to Isaac, “Okay?”

“W...” Isaac was about to bark his answer until he saw his Master raise his eyebrow questioningly, “Yes Master.” When Stiles smiles at his response he can’t help but to duck his head as he blushes trying to hide his own small smile at pleasing his alpha.

During Deaton’s examination of Isaac he comments on how some of the injuries he noted yesterday don’t appear to be a bad as he had thought. It isn’t until he asks Isaac about if he has eaten much that the lying starts.

Isaac insists that his Master ensured he had eaten the required minimum amount of kibble last night and again this morning, and that he had given him a full bowl of water with bowl of kibble. He doesn’t want to be sent back to the House, he doesn’t want to be sold to some family where he is the werewolf; he doesn’t want WERES taking him away. He wants to stay with this Master, this alpha and be part of this pack.

Derek and Scott agree with him, all stating that their Master looks after them properly, that he makes sure they eat their kibble as required.

Derek needs to protect his alpha, is mate. He hasn’t forgotten the hell that Kate put him through, he hasn’t forgotten those nights locked in the WERES cages when they arrested Stiles. He remembers the ache in his chest that the separation from his Master, his mate, caused him. He will do anything he needs to protect Stiles.

Scott was back with his best friend, he didn’t want to lose that again. He had the life with him that he had sometimes fantasied of. Okay it wasn’t exactly like he had thought, but it was close. And his best friend was his alpha and his Master. He will tell a lie about being fed the kibble to keep this life he has, to stay with his pack and his Master.

Deaton can see the shocked look on Stiles’ face, but even if he couldn’t he knew that Isaac, Derek and Scott were lying; if all Stiles was feeding them was the werewolf kibble they would be less coherent than they are. They were protecting their alpha.

“Is that true?” Deaton asks his tone conveying that he doesn’t believe them, “I can test for the WERES marker in your...” before Deaton finishes all three werewolves have shifted and are holding him against the wall.

“ **Oh. My. God** ,” Stiles exclaims, “Derek, Scott, Isaac, put the Doc back down and stand over the other side of the room,” he orders them. Scott and Isaac instantly obey, Derek is still holding Deaton by the neck, his claws pressing against him.

“Derek,” Stiles tone is full of warning, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

“He is threatening to report you to WERES,” Derek turns to look at Stiles, and even through the hair and fangs Stiles can see the fear Derek feels, he can feel the fear all three of his wolves feel at the thought of being separated. Stiles reaches out, his palm resting on Derek’s cheek, his thumb gently stroking back and forth seeking to comfort his mate.

“That’s not going to happen Derek, all of you,” Stiles looks across at Isaac and Scott holding on to each other and clearly afraid of the implication of WERES finding out that he hasn’t fed them the kibble. He needs to tell them that Deaton is part of the liberationists; that he would not inform WERES, he looks at Deaton trying to convey what he wants to tell his pack.

“I’m part of the werewolf rights group here in Beacon Hills,” Deaton gasps out from under Derek’s hold, “Just like your owner is.”

Stiles feels a sense of relief at the vet’s words. Regardless of his effort undercover with the Argents the man’s views on Stiles’ place had always been a mystery. Hearing himself referred to as a full member of the group indicated a level of trust he hadn’t realised was there before.

“ _This_ is the man your father mentioned yesterday?” Derek asks Stiles, looking over at his alpha with a rather shamefaced expression.

“Yes.”

At Stiles’ reply Derek let’s go of Deaton and walks over to stand with his other two pack mates.

“You’re taking a risk not feeding them the minimum to ensure the marker remains in their system,” Deaton says.

“We’ll get to that,” Stiles says as Derek comments, “We could just eat the minimum kibble required to keep the marker there like we used to.”

“ **No** ,” Stiles tone leaves no room for argument, even Derek doesn’t raise any objection this time. They all saw his eyes flash red before they returned to his normal human colour.

“What?” Stiles asks as he sees all of his pack looking at him, a mixture of fear and sadness.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about after I had completed my examination of Isaac,” Deaton using his calming voice, the one Scott said he used to give clients bad news, “So far, whenever you get angry, or seem stressed, your eyes are turning red; alpha red.”

“What?” Stiles panics. Derek is instantly by his side, hand on his back and face rubbing against his cheek. Scott and Isaac have hung back, staying where Stiles ordered them all to go. 

“We’ll talk later,” Deaton says, looking to deflect the conversation from occurring now.

“Is this related to my _not quiet human_ status?” Stiles asks ignoring the looks suddenly coming from Scott and Isaac, ignoring the stilling of Derek’s cheek against his, “Am I now _more wolf than human_? Will I no-longer test as human if WERES test my blood again?” The questions tumble from Stiles’ mouth as they pop into his head and he can’t find a way to stop himself asking them.

“Stiles,” Deaton quietly says his name drawing his attention, “I don’t know, but we will find out.”

“It doesn’t matter to us,” Derek says as Scott and Isaac wrap themselves around Stiles, “We love you anyway, you are still our owner, our Master, and you are **_definitely_** our alpha.” Derek finally understood why his wolf had always trusted Stiles; he knew he had always wanted to submit to his mate.

Deaton takes some samples of Stiles blood and starts the testing of them before he resumes his examination of Isaac. Looking for any serious damage caused by his lack of food over the preceding months. There are even signs that the cracked dry skin and bruising and other signs of injury are beginning to heal. 

Isaac listens impassively as his alpha explains to Deaton why the Argents arranged for ownership of him to be transferred to his new Master. All the time his Master is talking he is stroking Isaac’s hair. The heavy knotted ball of apprehension building in him at the knowledge he is only with his Master to see if he can make him have his heat brings back the memories of his father giving him and his mother over to WERES. If his own father didn’t want him, if the people at the House wanted to cause him pain beyond what he could enjoy, why would his current owner want him after he had been able to prove he could bring back Isaac’s heat? He has already decided how his owner is going to answer the vet’s question of “What happens to Isaac after that?”

“He’s **MINE** ,” the shock of the growled response has Isaac looking up into his alpha’s red eyes, “No-one is taking him from my pack, I made sure they had written that into the agreement before I signed anything, Isaac is **_mine_** regardless of whether he goes into heat or not.”

“And what if _Isaac_ doesn’t want that?” Lydia asks from the corner where she has been lurking.

“I want that,” Isaac softly answers, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he makes his way over to his Master, seeking comfort in his arms. His eyes never leaving his alpha. He’s wanted, he has a pack that loves him and an alpha that wants to take care of him.

“So what have you been eating?” Deaton asks him, taking everyone’s thoughts back to the examination they are there for.

“Master gave me soup last night, and a bottle of cola,” Isaac answers as he settles back on the steel table, “the same food that he was eating, and this morning there was eggs, bacon, and toast for breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “he nearly finished two slices of bread, two rashers of bacon, a sausage and an egg; I’m really proud of him.”

“Don’t push him too eat too much at once,” Deaton casually remarked.

“ _I don’t_ ,” Stiles growled, the sound of his own voice shocking him back to himself, “I feed him a little at a time and stop when he says he isn’t hungry anymore. He ate more for breakfast than he did with the soup last night.”

“Good,” Deaton replies, not showing any sign of noticing the growl until he says, “At least your eyes didn’t change this time, you will need to get control of anger, it does seem to be triggered by references to your pack. Either someone taking them from you or that you aren’t taking care of their well-being. So you may want to work on that with someone who could trigger your responses.”

“I’ll help with that,” Lydia gleefully says, “I’m good at getting responses from Stiles.”

Derek doesn’t stop growling at her until Stiles lays his hand on Derek’s arm, drawing his attention from a shocked Lydia.

“Now about the kibble?” Deaton enquires, “You were going to say why you’ve stopped feeding Derek, Scott and Isaac the dry food completely, and why Derek thinks they should still eat it.”

Stiles passes the USB drive with the details Danny downloaded from KWE’s servers. He tells Deaton about seeing a link to it on Gerard Argent’s computer at APS, of Gerard saying he was looking for something to use against KWE to try and sell their own brand of kibble. Stiles explains that he involved Danny as he wanted someone that could verify the servers that the documents came from actually were KWE’s servers and that the documents had originated inside the KWE network and had not been planted from an external source. Danny had confirmed that the documents really were from KWE computers. Deaton promises to check on Danny as a possible recruit to the cause.

While Stiles is distracted talking to Deaton, Lydia decides to fix something that has been bothering her since Stiles and the werewolves entered. She walks over to Isaac and taking one of the wipes she carries in her bag starts to clean the _flaky white dried ‘she is ignoring what it is’_ from Isaac’s chest and abdomen. She knows those are tears of happiness he’s beginning to cry, because who would want to walk around with _that_ on their skin. She can’t understand why Scott and Derek are growling as if cleaning this _stuff_ off of him is a **_bad_** thing, and Isaac’s expression confuses her.

Isaac can’t understand why she’s doing this to him. He trembles under her touch, but he can’t speak out, he can’t tell her to stop like he wants to. He’s a slave-pet and she is a human; she is a free-person, and he learned he doesn’t have the right to object to whatever a free-person does. But she doesn’t have his Master’s permission, she shouldn’t be doing this without his Master giving his consent.

All he can do is stand there as she takes away the last remnants of his pack’s scent from his body and wonder ‘ _Why would she do that?_ ‘, ‘ _Why wouldn’t she let me carry my alpha’s scent, let me smell like pack?_ ‘

At the growling Stiles turns to see Lydia wiping at Isaac’s chest.

“ _What the_ ** _hell_ are you doing?** “ Stiles barks at her.

“I’m cleaning this,” she brandishes the wipe at Stiles, “Off of the poor boys skin, _why would you do that_? Why would you make him walk around with **_that_** on his skin?”

“I let him walk around with _that_ , as you put it, on his skin because he asked, because he wanted to have the scent of pack, of me, on him so that he knew he had a pack, so that other werewolves would know he belonged to a pack and that he had protection, that he had someone who cared about him and so that he would know he isn’t alone,” Stiles rants at her.

Stiles pulls Isaac into a hug; Derek and Scott crowding in, so they all surround Isaac.

“It’s okay Isaac, I promise we’ll fix this. First thing when get home we’ll cover you in your pack, we’ll all make you smell like pack, okay?” Stiles gently asks, Isaac replies with a soft ‘ _WOOF_ ‘ and a nod of his head. Stiles glares at Lydia before returning to his conversation with Deaton.

They talk of how Derek had been fed only the Argent’s kibble for the last six years, how Scott has been fed on the Argent’s kibble for over eighteen months, that Isaac would have been given Argent’s kibble for the time since his capture until he was bought by ‘the House’, and they most likely buy the KWE, so for almost a year he has been fed the KWE food. So all of them have had more than eighteen months of being fed some form of werewolf kibble.

“The Argent’s formula uses a different strain of wolfsbane,” Deaton postulates, he’s noticed the differing reactions of Stiles’ wolves, Derek in particular seems far more independent in his actions than he should be for someone who has been fed kibble for six years given the report he has just read, “its effects may not be as strong or as lasting as the KWE formula. When did you stop feeding the kibble to Derek and Scott?”

“Two days ago, last night was Isaac’s first night without it,” Stiles replies. This only puzzles Deaton more given the marked difference in Scott and Derek’s reactions. Derek has had more kibble but seems less affected. All three werewolves seem devoted to Stiles and accept him as their alpha, so they should all be affected equally.

“I’ll need to run some blood tests and compare the results to before they came to you. I can get those but it will take some time. Also I’ll need to arrange to do a full scan, I can’t do that here but I should be able to make arrangements for that. I’ll call you when I know when.”

“Okay.” Stiles doesn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe, just maybe Derek, Scott and Isaac aren’t as affected by the kibble as he had thought.

“Now, your blood test results,” Deaton says looking at the results on the monitor.

“What’s the news Doc?” Stiles asks, the trepidation evident in his voice.

“Well WERES would still class you as human, their testing isn’t refined enough to pick up the changes in your DNA,” Deaton says, “but there are changes. The results of Deucalion’s attack on your mother when she was pregnant with you were stable last time I checked, now something has activated some of the dormant cells, and I don’t know if the changes have stopped.”

“So, what does that mean?” Stiles sounds calm, but his wolves can hear the spike in his heart beat, they can detect the change in his scent. All three of them move into comfort their alpha.

“I don’t know Stiles, but I can’t test anything further here,” Deaton says, his face almost frowning in frustration, “I should be able to do more at the same time as I am carrying out the scans on Derek, Scott and Isaac. We should be able to find out more then.”

As Stiles and his pack are leaving Deaton’s he sends the promised text to Allison.

To Allison: we’re lEvN Deaton’s clinic now, wl B @ d prk n 15 mins

Though all he really wants to do is head home and wrap himself in a cocoon of blankets in his bed. Fuck his life since he got involved with Deaton.

But he knows he wouldn’t change it. Sure he had wanted to buy a slave-pet and at least could have told himself he had saved one from being owned by someone who didn’t care, but he never actually got around to doing that.

If he hadn’t gotten involved with Deaton and the werewolf rights movement he wouldn’t have met Derek, he wouldn’t have Scott back in his life, and Isaac would still be suffering in that hell of place that had owned him.

So no, he wouldn’t, couldn’t change what his life has become. It means too much to him, _they_ mean too much to him.

\------

Jackson can deny it all he wants, Danny **_knows_** that he is pouting, it’s not exactly a mystery as to why either. It would be so easy to just give in, but he can’t and it doesn’t matter how much he might want to he knows now how wrong that would be.

From the fact that Jackson didn’t argue with him, _he just got that hurt look on his face and accepted that Danny didn’t want to_ , Danny knew the only reason that Jackson ever did it was because Danny wanted him to, because Danny _owned_ him and that Danny was his _Master_.

He’d allowed himself to think that Jackson actually cared about him, loved him; that he had been forgiven for the way he had treated Jackson when he first bought him. He had been so angry at Jackson then, and really he knew it wasn’t Jackson’s fault that he was born a werewolf and that the bullying Jackson had made stop had restarted, with a vengeance, after Jackson had been captured by WERES. 

Ever since Stiles brought the KWE information to his attention Danny has ended up questioning everything he thought he knew. So when Jackson got down on his knees in front of Danny in the shower that morning Danny couldn’t let him. No matter how good Jackson’s got, how talented he’s become with his mouth and tongue. Sunday morning shower sex may have become part of their routine, but Danny had to say no.

He finishes drying and heads out to the bedroom to get dressed. Jackson is sitting on the bed. He’s dressed in just some chinos and a light shirt, the collar around his neck visible past the open collar of the shirt.

“Hey,” Danny cheerily calls, “wanna go out to the yard and see if you can get some shots past me? Help me improve my goalkeeper skills?”

Jackson looks up at him and smiles, “Yes Sir.”

“Great,” Danny’s keeps his smile from faltering, Jackson had stopped calling him Sir in private; that was only for in public. He finishes dressing and heads to the door.

Jackson rises and follows Danny out. He doesn’t know why his Master rejected him, doesn’t he want him anymore? He just doesn’t know what he done wrong, but he needs to make his Master happy with him again.

\------

Stiles clips a leash to each of his wolves’ collars and leads them into the park. He’s carrying a back-pack with supplies should they need to use the puppy pads or something while they are here.

Stiles finds Allison a short way into the park, she is sitting on a bench with Jacob sitting at her feet, the leash attached to his collar firmly grasped in one of her hands as she absently pets his hair with her other hand.

“Hey,” Stiles lightly greets her as he walks up beside the bench.

“Hi,” her smile is weak and he knows something is bothering her.

“Why don’t we let these guys go run around for a bit while we talk, hmm?” he smiles as he sits down on the bench beside her.

“Yeah, good idea, you’d like that Jay wouldn’t you?” Allison seems nervous as she answers.

Stiles points out a section of the park’s pathway, and tells Derek, Scott and Isaac to stick to that for their run, he’ll call them when they are to come back. Isaac is reluctant to leave his alpha’s side until Scott takes his hand and gently pulls him on the run behind Derek.

Allison tells Jay to follow Stiles’ slave-pets.

“So, something is worrying you?” Stiles says as the wolves take off on their run.

She tells him what she overheard her grandfather and mother talking about, then takes out her laptop and shows him what she has found while checking the finances.

“Tell me I’m wrong?” she asks, pleads with him, “Tell me I missed something and there isn’t a huge hole, tell me there isn’t money missing?”

“Fuck!” is Stiles first reaction as he looks at the evidence she has collected. “I’m no expert on book keeping, but I don’t think you are wrong.”

“Stiles, what are we gonna do?”

Stiles can see that this is tearing her apart. She has already reported her family to WERES for the illegal activity that Kate had undertaken, her mother was an accessory to that, and now her mother and grandfather appear to be misreporting the company accounts.

“What do _you_ want to do?” Stiles asks her, “As I see it we have two options.”

“ _What options_? _What can we do_?”

“We can ignore what your grandfather and mother have been covering up, or we can save the company,” Stiles states, “the latter option means going to someone official and having these accounts verified by forensic accountant.”

“My mom and grandfather will end up in jail,” Allison is pale at the thought.

“Probably,” Stiles replies, “But that isn’t your fault, you have to do what you believe to be the right thing to do.”

“We have to save the company,” Allison looks up into Stiles’ eyes.

“The let’s got see my lawyer,” Stiles smiles weakly back at her, it’s almost a grimace, “he’ll know the best thing to do and who to contact.”

They call their wolves back from their running, on the way to the Whittemores’ house Stiles detours through a drive in to get his wolves, and himself, some lunch. He ignores the look he gets at the checkout when they see that there are three slave-pets in the jeep that has just ordered four burgers and portions of curly fries. When the person on the checkout informs him that they do offer kibble for their clients to buy their slave-pets Stiles pointedly tells him if he wants to treat his wolves to a burger then he will thank you very much.

When Allison and he arrive at the Whittemores’ home they are watching a news report in the situation in Alaska. There is still no reliable communications with the state to understand the full extent of the _Canadian Human And Werewolf Alliance_ incursion, but the few reports available suggest that state has been fully occupied. There is also mounting tensions across the Canadian and US border, particularly on the eastern side where, based on reported Canadian troop movements, experts are predicting any incursion would occur.

By the time they are leaving the Whittemore house the WERES authorities have been contacted, and tomorrow a court appointed forensic accountancy team will descend on Argent Pet Supplies offices in every city.

\------

When they arrive home from school the next day the news is full of the report that every Argent Pet Supplies office has been raided by WERES and that a full audit of their accounts is being undertaken based on information received from Ms Allison Argent and Mr Grz... Grzeg... Stiles Stilinski.

Isaac has been in near panic during the day and Scott had been comforting him, a lot. When Stiles managed to get Isaac to talk he clung on to Stiles and burying his nose against Stiles’ neck just kept repeating that he ‘ _didn’t want to go back, he wanted to stay with Stiles, and Scott and Derek_ ‘. Having heard the reports about the audit on the Argents and knowing that the company had covered the cost of him now being owned by Stiles, Isaac was worried that he would be taken from him. Stiles promised him that he wouldn’t allow it, that ‘ _if anyone tried to take his Izzy from him he’d rip their throats out with his teeth_ ‘.

It got at least a half-hearted laugh from Isaac.

There’s are packages on the coffee table for Stiles that have been delivered by a courier. It’s the clothing items that Scott, Derek and Isaac picked. Stiles had known it was mostly shorts that they had ordered, as they thought that would be easier for them to get away with in public. But seriously Stiles wishes he had paid more attention to what they were ordering from the sites instead of just putting in the payment details. He’d seen some of the items as they were looking, and Scott had been quite vocal about wanting some of the pieces, _but when in the hell had they added the leather head harness and piss-gag_? There are three of every item, in different sizes for each of them, well except for the head harness it only has one size, and the piss-gag there is only one of them.

As Derek, Scott and Isaac are going through the assortment of rubber and leather, mostly rubber thanks to Scott, the distinct scent of lemon starts to hit Stiles’ nose. He sees the furtive glances between the three of them, knows that they must be able to smell it too, they have far better sense of smell than he does. But he doesn’t know what it means.

“What’s that smell?” Stiles asks looking over at his pack going through the open boxes. It’s definitely coming from where they are.

“What smell Master?” Scott asks. Is he blushing? Stiles wonders.

“Is there something in those boxes causing that smell of lemons?”

And all three of them have definitely turned red, the flush of it rising up their chests and across their cheeks.

\------

It popped up on the net overnight, every country, multiple servers and whenever one was taken down two more appeared.

The Truth about Werewolf Kibble.

There were those that didn’t care. But what WERES and the authorities didn’t expect was that there were more that did, and some of those that did owned slave-pets.

And they refused to feed their slave-pets any brand of kibble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Text Translations
> 
> To Stiles: cn u mma d 3:] prk?  
> = To Stiles: can you meet me at the pet park?  
> To Allison: takN Isaac 2 d vet 4 ck-^. wl txt wen lEvN der. S somit ^?  
> = To Allison: taking Isaac to the vet for check-up. Will text when leaving there. Is something up?  
> To Stiles: no prob. wl tlk wen u gt der.  
> = To Stiles: no problem. Will talk when you get there.  
> To Allison: K  
> = To Allison: okay  
> To Allison: we're lEvN Deaton's clinic now, wl B @ d prk n 15 mins  
> = To Allison: we're leaving Deaton's clinic now, will be at the park in 15 minutes
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-14
> 
> Scott quickly straddles his Master lap, looking down at him past the leather straps either side of his nose on the edge of his vision. Stiles is holding his cock straight up and Scott feels it nudge against his stretched opening. He slides down easily, the full feeling as he bottoms out against his Master’s pubis making him moan in delight. God how he missed this during their morning shower. The feeling of belonging to his Master, the slight burn as his Master’s thick, long, cock slides into him; brushing against the spot inside that felt so good.
> 
> He grabs hold of the back of the couch as he picks up the pace, raising himself up off of his alpha’s cock until only the head is held inside him and slamming back down.
> 
> He feels his Master grab the waist band of the jock, pulling it under his balls, the pre-cum he had leaked into the pouch of the jock slipping into the bush of hair beneath him. His Master’s hand grasps his rigid shaft, twisting up and down the length in time with his own thrusts up and down on hard length in him.
> 
> “Please, please, Master, I need, I’m gonna…” Scott begs for permission, he can’t hold back.
> 
> “Come for me Scotty,” Stiles commands him, his own voice wrecked with need.
> 
> Scott’s claws pierce the back of the couch as he throws his head back and howls as his release sprays over his Master. His ass clenching tightly around Stiles’ own throbbing erection coating his inner walls.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

Stiles knew the meaning of the lemon scent now.

It related to his eyes turning red and the sound of his alarm clock seeming to be ten times louder than it used to. Okay, maybe ten times is an exaggeration; but the first day the hearing kicked in he nearly knocked Derek out of bed and threw Isaac on top of Scott. They all started sleeping in the bed again at the start of the week. When they were taking off the sheer pants that first night Isaac started to whimper and cling to Stiles, eventually admitting that he didn’t want to sleep in the cage he wanted to be near his alpha. Stiles was happy with that, he preferred to have his pack around him in the bed.

And that instantly made him think that he needed to tell his dad he needed a bigger bed, that his current bed wasn’t big enough for four werewolves, _well three werewolves and him_. Though maybe he was right with four, but Deaton had still to do his tests, and really _the eyes, the sense of smell, now the hearing_. It kinda all pointed in _one direction_ , and he wasn’t talking about a boy band. Then again maybe they should consider that _, Stiles and his Slave-Pets, Alpha and his Wolf Pack, but could any of them sing? Could they play any instruments? Did they need to?_

But that was getting completely off topic.

Stiles quickly found out on Monday night as his pack looked through the ‘ _clothing_ ‘ that they had ordered exactly what the lemon scent meant; _arousal_ , _lustful_ , _horny_ , _turned on_ , _lasciviousness_. His wolves were getting turned on as they looked through the boxes.

By the time his dad got home they had taken the boxes up to their room, Stiles had unlocked them from the chastity cages and pouches and they were lounging in the living room, the three of them on the floor at Stiles feet wearing the black Sheer Pant. Being see-through the pants didn’t actually hide the fact that all three of them had boners, and even if it did Stiles could still smell the lemony scent coming from them. In all fairness he probably smelt the same as he looked at them in the sheer clothing showing off their hardness and hotness, he couldn’t complain about their choices. At least his dad couldn’t see his predicament under the layers of clothing he was wearing. _Or smell it_ , unlike his wolves rubbing their faces up against his legs.

Scott was sulking most of the day Tuesday when Stiles said he wouldn’t let him wear the leather head harness and piss-gag to school. It was only when Stiles promised that he would put the head harness with the piss-gag on him all day Saturday that he stopped sulking and grinned like a loon. Then Stiles said that he’d also use him, and only him, instead of going to the toilet. Scott’s eyes widened at that, and he jumped up into Stiles arms exclaiming ‘ _thank you Master_ ‘.

Scott wore the clear latex ‘ _Rubber Boy Shorts_ ‘, his hard-on clearly visible through the shorts tightly clinging to him. Isaac wore the ‘ _Neoprene Open Ass Shorts_ ‘, his bare creamy white ass nicely framed by the black material; Stiles couldn’t help but give an appreciative gaze, commenting ‘ _looking good Izzy_ ‘, as he gently slapped the soft flesh, making Isaac blush and smile so sweetly. Derek was torn between wearing a couple of different outfits, he finally decided on the ‘ _Rubber Football Pants_ ‘. It was clear they all knew the affect they were having on their Master, and that their choices were quiet deliberate.

Sadly Scott and Derek found their choice difficult to get out of when they needed to use the puppy pads, Isaac just unfastened the cod-piece and squatted.

Wednesday they all opted to wear the ‘ _Air Jock_ ‘.

Thursday and Friday they all chose the ‘ _Neoprene Open Ass Shorts_ ‘ each of them having a different colour cod-piece; Stiles found it distracting in class, _very distracting_ , somehow finding himself more aroused than when they were naked.

\---------

Stiles could feel the nervous energy radiating off of Scott on Saturday morning as he woke. Derek was curled in against Stiles left, his head resting on Stiles’ chest and his erection pressing into Stiles’ thigh. Isaac was lying half on top of Stiles on his right side, his own hardness against Stiles’ abdomen. Scott was curled against Isaac’s back as had become their usual position; Stiles could feel Scott’s hard shaft poking into his side from under Isaac’s balls.

Stiles looks across at Scott and sees his eyes looking at him with hope and fear, he smiles at Scott before playfully slapping Isaac’s ass to wake him. Isaac grips more tightly to him pushing his leaky erection along Stiles’ skin. Stiles hasn’t spanked Isaac in the morning like he does Scott and Derek; Isaac has never asked him to. Isaac’s eyes flutter open.

“Master,” he sleepily says, a blush creeping up his cheek as he snuggled in closer.

Stiles presses his lips against Isaac’s forehead.

“Okay baby boy, time to get up, I have a pressing bladder issue that Scott needs to take care of,” Stiles says smiling at Isaac as he hears Scott leap from the bed and settle himself on his knees on the floor.

Stiles ruffles Scott’s hair as he stands in front of him, Scott eagerly leaning forward with his mouth open trying to take Stiles in him already before Stiles stops him.

“This is going to be the first of many today Scotty,” Stiles reminds him, “But only if you still want what I promised you on Tuesday.”

“Yes Master, _please_ , I still want that,” Scott begs, “ _Please_ , you promised. You promised that it would be _all_ _day_ today. No take backs, right?”

“Okay then,” Stiles lets Scott take him into his mouth and releases his flow, watching as Scott’s throat moves and works to swallow him down.

During their shower time Stiles only brought Derek and Isaac to release. Scott he doused with icy cold water to make his erection go down, telling him he would be allowed to come tonight. Before he continued with their morning ritual of giving Derek and Scott a spanking he told them that Scott would be last as he had plans for how Scotty was spending the day as his piss slave. After Stiles had spanked Derek until he was hard and dripping again he was about to have Scott lay across his lap when Isaac interposed.

“Please alpha, _Master_ ,” Isaac was close to hyperventilating, “ _Please spank me too_ , please I want feel it. I used to love being spanked and I want to remember why I used to enjoy it and _I know you’ll make it good for me_ , please.”

Stiles takes Isaac’s head gently between his hands, his thumbs caressing his cheeks as he turns his head up to look at him.

“Isaac,” Stiles smiles down at him, “How could I say know to you? I’d love to spank you.” Stiles places a chaste kiss to Isaac’s lips, “Climb up onto my lap, facing me, grasp your hands behind my neck, arch your ass back and up, that’s it.”

Stiles runs a hand up over Isaac’s back as he takes his mouth, his tongue exploring the hot moist cave as he brings his other hand down hard on Isaac’s upturned bum.

Isaac’s feels himself grow hard under each smack causing him to gasp into his Master’s mouth claiming his as they continue to kiss and he feels the pleasurable sting of the spanking he’s receiving. He knows he is dripping pre-cum on his Master as he groans his pleasure, his Master now nipping at his throat and jaw as he continues to rain down _smack_ after _smack_ to Isaac’s upturned ass. He is pushing his ass back trying to make contact with the hand that his heating and reddening his flesh.

“You can come if you want to Isaac,” his Master’s mouth hot at his ear, breathing his words huskily and needy.

“Please, harder, more please,” Isaac pleads his wanton need.

Stiles grabs a fistful of Isaac’s hair and brings his throat back to his mouth as his hands land faster and harder against the reddening globes of his ass. As he licks his way up Isaac’s throat, gnawing at his jawline Isaac starts to spray his release over Stiles’ chest as he continues to land each smack on his sore and heated ass.

“Thank you Master, thank you,” Isaac repeats over and over, the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You’re such a good pup for me Izzy,” Stiles tells him between kisses to his tears and lips.

Derek was still hard and tenting the front of the sheer pants he was wearing from his own spanking, witnessing Isaac’s reaction to being spanked by their Master did nothing to reduce the rigidity; if anything it increased his arousal in spite of the sting of jealousy he felt at seeing another coat his mate in their seed. Isaac was no sooner off Stiles’ lap when Derek launched himself at Stiles grabbing his waist and licking at Stiles’ skin, replacing the scent of Isaac on his mate with his own.

“Down boy,” Stiles barked at him; Derek whined as he backed off, the hurt clear in his eyes.

“I want to smell like our pack Derek,” Stiles gently says, “I want to smell like Isaac, **_and you_** , and later we’ll add Scott’s scent. Right now I want you to add your scent to Isaac’s on my skin.”

Stiles pulled Derek to him as he sat back in the chair. As Derek straddled him Stiles pulled the sheer pants down over Derek’s throbbing shaft, snagging the waistband behind his balls. He skinned Derek’s foreskin back, using his pre-cum to coat and slick his shaft.

“Grab the back of the chair Der,” Stiles commanded him as he worked Derek’s solid heated flesh. His hand skimming back and forth, twisting his palm over the head and taking more of Derek’s pre-cum back over the length of him easing his strokes. Working the speed of his strokes and the tightness of his grip to pull the wanton gasps of air and needy growls from the wolf hovering over him.

“Look at me Der, smell our pack on me, see how much I want your scent on me, coating my skin all day long,” Stiles words pulled Derek’s second release of the morning from him with a howl that shook the windows of the room.

As Derek watched him, Stiles lazily drew his palm through the tick coating of Derek seed, mixing it with Isaac’s and rubbing it in to his skin, Derek’s eyes blazed electric blue. He grabbed the back of Derek’s hair and pulled him down to takes his mouth possessively, kissing him with passion, and ignoring the crack of the wooden slat of the chair Derek was still gripping.

Scott was hard, but Stiles still wasn’t letting him come yet. He gave Scott some time to calm as he helped Isaac into the open ass shorts so that his red ass was on display, and Derek pulled his sheer pants back up after washing the last remnants of his release from his cock, the wolfish smile never leaving his face. Then Stiles spanked Scott.

Scott was lying face down over Stiles’ knee as Derek had been for his spanking. Scott gasped as he gripped Stiles’ leg to steady himself against the blows. A litany of words released from him with every smack.

“ _Please,_ ** _ngh_ yes, please Sir, Master, _ngh_** _thank you, please_ ** _ahh_ yes**...”

Scott remained hard throughout his spanking, and when Stiles stopped they were both panting for breath. Stroking Scott’s cheek and hair Stiles had him kneel to calm, he was still not allowed release yet.

While Scott knelt beside Isaac and Derek, Stiles laid out the clothing that he was dressing Scott in for the day.

The first piece of clothing that Stiles dressed Scott in was the ‘Rubber Jock Brief’. Once this was covering his still semi-hard cock and framing his red ass nicely Stiles added a pair of rubber knee pads, for all the kneeling that Scott would be doing through the day. This was followed by the rubber dog mittens buckled around his wrists. 

Stiles could see the straining against the rubber pouch of Scott’s jock brief.

“You still want to do this Scott?” Stiles asked, he had asked earlier but he still wanted to give Scott a chance to change his mind.

“Yes, please Master,” Scott pleads with him, the earnestness in his voice is clear, “I want to be your piss slave, please.”

Stiles then places the leather head harness over Scott’s head and fastens the buckles to hold it in place, then takes the piss gag and places it in Scott’s mouth connecting it to the harness snapping it in place.

“Kneel,” Stiles commands Scott. He falls to his knees and Stiles gently pushes on his back making him go down on all fours. Stiles coats his fingers in lube before working one, then two into Scott’s ass. He slides his fingers in and out, working them slowly over his prostate, scissoring and working Scott open until he gets three fingers deep inside him before swiftly pulling out, leaving Scott moaning around the gag in his mouth. Stiles can smell the heavy scent of lemon coming from all three of his wolves, even over the leather and rubber covering Scott.

Stiles then takes the metal ass hook, coating the one and a half inch diameter ball in lube and eases it into Scott’s lube coated hole. He quickly ties a length of rope through the closed ring on the end of the ass hook, taking it up Scott’s back and looping it through the D-ring on the top of the head harness.

“Move your head around for me Scott,” Stiles wants to check the range of movement Scott has, he doesn’t want him unable to get comfortable.

As Scott moves his head from side to side and as far forward as he can he feels it pull on the metal ball in his ass, with each movement he moans around the gag.

“Is that okay, it’s not hurting your neck?” Stiles asks, “Tap your hand on the ground once for yes, twice for no.”

Tap.

“Okay, if your neck starts to hurt I want you to tap on the ground and keep doing so until you have my attention, okay?”

Tap.

“Derek, Isaac,” Stiles turns his attention to them, “you need to pay attention to Scott too, if I miss him signalling he’s in distress then you release him form harness and gag, then make sure I know.”

“Yes Master,” is chorused from both of them.

“Okay, let’s go get breakfast.

\---------

The only time that the gag was taken out of Scott’s mouth was when Stiles was feeding him by hand.

They were lounging in the living room, Derek reading one of the comics, Isaac sitting on Stiles’ lap watching one of the Batman films with him, as was Scott kneeling between Stiles’ legs. Stiles paused the DVD.

“Time to let Scotty get his drink,” Stiles says, lifting Isaac off his lap and onto Derek’s next to him on the couch.

Scott turns round to face Stiles as he is opening his fly; he reaches in and pulls out his half-hard cock, pushing the head through the piss gag and into Scott’s mouth as he releases the warm flow over Scott’s tongue. Scott’s throat contracting with each swallow, his eyes closed in silent devotion. As Stiles finishes and begins to withdraw Scott move his head forward to follow, pulling on the ass hook embedded in him making him moan into the gag.

Stiles still has the head of his gag in the gag, he reaches over and grasps the end of the ass hook, pulling it partly out of Scott so that the ball is just visible within his ass lips, then pushing it in against Scott’s sweet spot causing him to moan into the gag again.

“If you keep moaning like that Scotty you’re gonna make me all hard, then I won’t be able to get inside the gag and let you drink any more of my pee,” Stiles teases Scott.

Scott pleadingly looks up into Stiles’ eyes and Stiles pats his ass.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” turning to Isaac, Stiles asks him, “Hey Isaac, wanna go get me a nice tall glass of iced water, and something for yourself and Derek if either of you want a drink.”

As Stiles fastens up his fly, Scott rests his head against his Master’s knee. He’s hard and leaking into the rubber jock, and knows that just drinking from Stiles he was close to coming in the rubber pouch, so close.

Stiles brushes his thumb over Scott’s cheek as he takes the glass of water from Isaac with his other hand. Isaac sits back down in Derek’s lap and Stiles restarts the DVD.

Scott waits patiently until his Master needs him again; gnawing at the gag in his mouth in anticipation as he watches the glass of icy water travel to his Master’s lips, watching the movement of his throat as he drinks, knowing that eventually his thirst would be sated by it.

By late afternoon Stiles has used Scott twice more. Scott is kneeling with his head resting against Stiles’ leg. Everyone catches the scent of lemon in the air. Pouring out of Scott, the rubber job stretching around his swollen prick, and leaking from the confines of Stiles’ jeans where his own stiffness is trapped.

Stiles can’t concentrate on the third Batman DVD they are watching. He leans forward and unties the rope connecting the ass hook in Scott’s ass to his head harness. When he unfastens the piss gag from the harness Scott momentarily bites down on it to stop Stiles removing it.

“Scott,” Stiles tone is full of warning, “If you don’t let go then I will never put it back in, ever.”

Scott immediately opens his mouth. With the gag out Scott works his jaw as Stiles removes the dog mitts from his hands.

“While I get my jeans down you, Scotty, are gonna take the ass hook out and make sure you have enough lube in you,” Stiles directs him, “Then you are gonna climb up in my lap and fuck yourself on my cock until you come all over my chest, adding your load to Derek and Isaac’s.”

“ ** _WOOF!_** “ an overexcited Scotty replies, “ _I mean yes Master_.”

Stiles slouches down as he lowers his jeans and boxers to his knees, his thick hard eight inches slapping against his abs, pre-cum drooling from the slit. His shaft is wet with it, but he still pours a generous amount of lube over his cock and curling his hand around the head thrusts up into his fist as he sees Scotty crouching down with his fingers in his ass. In the corner of his eye he sees Derek lick his lips, his eyes fixed on Stiles’ cock working in and out of his fisted hand. Isaac is a ball of nervous energy on Derek’s lap, and Scotty is whining as he waits for Stiles’ permission.

“Up you get Scotty, _fuck yourself on my cock_.”

Scott quickly straddles his Master lap, looking down at him past the leather straps either side of his nose on the edge of his vision. Stiles is holding his cock straight up and Scott feels it nudge against his stretched opening. He slides down easily, the full feeling as he bottoms out against his Master’s pubis making him moan in delight. God how he missed this during their morning shower. The feeling of belonging to his Master, the slight burn as his Master’s thick, long, cock slides into him; brushing against the spot inside that felt so good.

He grabs hold of the back of the couch as he picks up the pace, raising himself up off of his alpha’s cock until only the head is held inside him and slamming back down.

He feels his Master grab the waist band of the jock, pulling it under his balls, the pre-cum he had leaked into the pouch of the jock slipping into the bush of hair beneath him. His Master’s hand grasps his rigid shaft, twisting up and down the length in time with his own thrusts up and down on hard length in him.

“Please, please, Master, I need, I’m gonna...” Scott begs for permission, he can’t hold back.

“Come for me Scotty,” Stiles commands him, his own voice wrecked with need.

Scott’s claws pierce the back of the couch as he throws his head back and howls as his release sprays over his Master. His ass clenching tightly around Stiles’ own throbbing erection coating his inner walls.

“I want you plugged Scotty, I want you kept full with my seed, my scent seeping into you,” Stiles quietly says into Scott’s ear, his hands holding the harness to keep Scott’s head next to his, “Do you want that Scotty, do you want me to keep you filled with my cum liked I did before?”

“Please, please Master.”

Stiles sends Derek to fetch the butt-plug from the bedroom while he lays there with Scott still impaled on him. He runs his hand through Scott’s cum, spreading it over his body as he mixes it with the dried remains of Isaac and Derek’s releases.

When Derek returns Scott slowly rises off him and Derek slides the plug into place.

“Okay,” Stiles smiles at Derek, “While Scotty cleans my cock with his mouth, how about you and Isaac lick the rest of me clean.”

Stiles spends an hour lounging on the couch as his wolves lick every inch of his skin clean. They only stop as Stiles stomach rumbles and he decides it’s time to make dinner.

The next day Stiles had each of them cover each other in their come, mixing them together and massaging it into each other’s skin. They spend the day with the mixed come drying on their bodies, even as they did the grocery shop at the local ‘ _Save Mart_ ‘. Scott crawling on his hands and knees, wearing the head harness, rubber knee-pads, dog mitts and jock brief. Isaac has the open ass shorts, showing off his spanked red ass, and Derek is wearing the rubber boy shorts. They noticed the wrinkling of other werewolves noses as they passed by, but Stiles didn’t care; and nor did any of his wolves, they all revelled in smelling like their Master, smelling like pack.

\---------

Derek snuffles against his Master’s neck, drinking in his scent. He recognises it now, just under the stronger scent that he recognises as Stiles, his alpha. Mixed with it now is his own scent, and underneath, faint yet permeating everything is wolf.

Now that he knows Derek wonders how he never noticed before, and worries if it is getting stronger; worries that now he notices it others who are not pack will notice. That they will notice and then their owners will notice. He needs to think of some way to protect his Master. He can’t let WERES take him from his pack; his alpha; his Mate.

Isaac has one arm thrown over his Master, his hand resting on Derek’s arm. The scent of pack surrounds him, the smell of his pack, of his alpha. He’s sure that his Master being partly wolf, being an alpha, is why he has accepted him as Master, his alpha, so easily. Isaac is glad that WERES don’t know his owner is partly wolf, he doesn’t want them to find out. He doesn’t want separated from his pack, from Scott, or Derek and his Master.

That first night here had been the best night of sleep he had since being enslaved. To be cuddled into two other wolves, part of a pack again, even if it was in a cage under their owner had felt so good. But now to be wrapped tightly against his alpha, held in his arms as they sleep, with his two pack mates around him. Derek on the other side of their alpha, and Scott spooning against Isaac’s back. Isaac never wants to lose this feeling of love and safety that he now has, he never wants to be without his alpha or pack again.

Scott pulls himself closer against Isaac’s back, breathing in his sweet scent. This weekend has been awesome. Stiles is the awesomest Master, just like he always knew he would be. He feels closer to him than he ever did before Stiles owned him. Scott understands why Stiles didn’t tell him he wasn’t totally human, especially when he’s tested and WERES say he is human. Scott understands because he couldn’t tell Stiles when he was bitten, he had to protect his best friend. He’s glad he did, because now his best friend owns him, his best friend is his Master, his alpha. And Scott wants to make sure that never changes.

\---------

It’s a Wednesday lunchtime and Allison and Stiles are sitting together with their werewolves kneeling beside them in the cafeteria at school when they hear the news.

_Gerard Argent has been arrested at the airport trying to board a flight to Croatia using a forged passport. Croatia does not have an extradition treaty with the USA. Mr Argent was arrested on several charges relating to the falsified accounts that have been filed by the company over the last three financial years. Mrs Victoria Argent, the wife of Mr Gerard Argent’s son Christopher has also been arrested in connection with the inaccurate accounts. Mr Christopher Argent has not been charged. The irregular accounts were brought to the attention of the WERES Forensic Accountants by Ms Allison Argent and Mr Grz... Grzeg... Stiles Stilinski. WERES has oversight of all companies licensed by it to deal in the handling, training and sale of slave-pets._

Both of them ignore the stares and whispers of the other students.

By the end of that week Stiles and Allison have persuaded her father of the merits of their plan to save the company, and have WERES approval for the restructuring of the company.

Gerard and Victoria’s shares of the company now belong to Stiles, Allison and Chris. This gives Allison twenty per cent, Stiles has thirty per cent and Chris has fifty per cent.

To cover the losses hidden by Gerard and Victoria the breeding license obtained is sold. Along with the breeding facilities in Texas, Colorado and Wyoming. The facilities in Washington State, Oregon and Idaho are to be repurposed for training and providing a ‘ _stud service_ ‘. There will be a large movement of slave-pets across the facilities affected by the sales and restructure of the company. They also need to sell off a quarter of the holding facilities and slave-pets will need to be moved and resettled in the other facilities that they retain.

The wolfsbane and kibble production facilities are also being sold off, at a loss. The buyers have no intention of growing the wolfsbane, or making werewolf kibble. It is purely the arable land, the factories and the warehouses that are wanted.

Overall it saves the company from going under. But it is a lot smaller than it was before, and the dent to the reputation so soon after Kate’s actions doesn’t help its public image. When Stiles passes the details of the routes that will be taken by the transport trucks moving the displaced werewolves to Deaton and his liberationist group, the loss of ‘ _stock_ ‘ to sell may just force it out of business.

\---------

Stiles is worried.

It’s making his pack tense and nervous, but he can’t help being worried. It’s the third time this week. It’s been three days in a row. Saturday after they had chicken fajitas for lunch. Sunday after the burger and fries that Stiles went to the drive-through for then took home for their lunch. Now today after the pastrami, turkey, Monterey Jack, gherkin and mustard on Rye. They had to rush to the nearest toilets.

Though Stiles still had to throw down a puppy pad for Derek to throw up into. There was someone in one of the cubicles and they would have been reported if Derek had vomited into a human’s toilet.

As Derek is puking up again as Stiles’ phone rings. Deaton has made the arrangements for the tests and he has some results from the blood he took and compared. Stiles needs to take his pack to the Newman-McMahon Corporation research facility in the new hi-tech industrial park on the south side of town tonight after school. Deaton will meet him outside the industrial park and guide him to the entrance to use.

Maybe Deaton will know why Derek has been throwing up for the last three days, _three days_. Stiles hopes so, werewolves aren’t supposed to get sick.

\---------

They are in the jeep just leaving school. Derek had turned the radio on to some soft rock station. Only there wasn’t any music playing.

... _the air is filled with billowing black smoke as the firefighters battle to get the blaze under control. There are hundreds of casualties at this Kellerman-White Enterprises factory, reports that as many as sixty people are unaccounted for and feared dead... wait, we’ve just heard that several other factories across the country, no, not just this country but around the globe KWE factories where the slave-pet dried food is produced have been attacked and are ablaze. Thousands of people have been injured and hundreds are feared dead_...

“ **Shit** ,” Stiles curses, “ ** _what the fuck have they done_**. This will only turn public opinion against the werewolf liberation movement!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### The Clothes
> 
> http://www.meo.de/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=8978  
> http://www.meo.de/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=8964&image_index=1  
> http://www.meo.de/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=8941  
> http://www.meo.de/catalog/product_info.php?products_id=8936  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/leather-head-harness.html  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/piss-gag-for-head-harness.html  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/rubber-surfer-suit.html  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/rubber-jock-brief.html  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/rubber-knee-pads.html  
> http://www.rob.eu/store/xcart/rubber-dog-mittens.html  
> http://www.mr-s-leather.com/NEO145/neoprene-open-ass-shorts.html  
> http://www.mr-s-leather.com/NEO132/neoprene-front-zip-short.html  
> http://www.mr-s-leather.com/R142C/rubber-boy-shorts.html  
> http://www.mr-s-leather.com/R235/rubber-football-pants.html  
> http://www.mr-s-leather.com/D093/ass-hook.html
> 
> ### Excerpt from Chapter-15
> 
> Derek hadn’t consider how he felt. Thinking on it he still loved Stiles, and Stiles was still his Mate. He had always been submissive, it had always been his nature as a delta. He’d been fed the kibble for nearly six years before Stiles bought him, and he had always managed to resist thinking of Kate as his Mistress. He had submitted to her, he had no option, but he resisted her, she had always been able to see the defiance in his eyes as he obeyed. Surely he must have been under the effects of the kibble then. He remembers always feeling groggy and finding it difficult to think rationally, it was easier just to obey. Is that how Scott and Isaac are feeling? Is that the reason they obey Stiles, because they can’t think not to?
> 
> Derek remembers when he was first delivered to Stiles, he recalls how his wolf revelled in the idea of submitting to him and how he had rebelled. His head was clearer than it had been in years as he woke from the drugged sleep. Kate had been the one to inject him with the sedative, had she used something to counteract the aconite from the kibble, something that would make him able to think clearly and disobey, hoping that he would escape his Master? And that thought gives Derek his answer to Scott’s question.
> 
> “No, Stiles is still my owner, still my Master, still my alpha, and still my Mate,” Derek says, “I belong to him, belong with him, and always will.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Jokr88](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jokr88/pseuds/Jokr88) for beta-ing this chapter.

“ _ **What the hell were they thinking**?_ “ Stiles interrogates Deaton as soon as he is out of his jeep at the location he was meeting Deaton.

“Stiles, this isn’t the time to discuss that,” Deaton calmly replies, but Stiles can hear the trip in his heartbeat, can smell the souring of his scent and **_knows_** that Deaton is worried about the attacks too, “we can talk about their mistakes later, right now we need to be as quick as possible.”

Stiles lets the attacks on the kibble factories slide for now, he will _discuss it_ with Deaton later.

“I didn’t think this place was open yet?” he asks changing the subject.

“It isn’t,” Deaton states.

“Are we breaking in?” Stiles eyes open wide at the thought, “‘cause you know my dad is the sheriff right? And it would be bad for his reputation if I was caught breaking and entering, right? That is something that you have considered?”

“We are not breaking in,” Deaton almost let an emotion into his voice, it was exasperation, Stiles could tell, a lot of people got exasperated around him, “My sister works here and is testing some of the newly installed equipment; officially we are here to help her test the facilities new equipment.”

“Oh,” Stiles face wore a mix of confusion and worry. Confusion because he hadn’t realised that Deaton had a sister, and worry because he wondered if Deaton remembered that a Newman-McMahon Corporation facility was where the alpha that attacked his mom had escaped from. ”They aren’t keeping any of the data you collect from me or my pack, right?”

It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t; and Deaton recognised that Stiles didn’t mean it as a question, but he answered anyway.

“Admittedly they do hold and store every blood sample taken by WERES. It isn’t available to them to use or look at however, they merely store the samples for WERES,” Deaton explains, Stiles isn’t sure what he is explaining yet, “This is how I was able to get the samples I used to check for changes in you and your wolves. I was able to compare WERES initial results with more current samples that I took myself.. Every time a ‘slave-pet’ is transferred to a new owner their blood is tested and stored. They took another sample where you were being investigated for the ‘data interference’, and they took samples from both of you again when Derek was in heat. But I’ll be destroying the only copy of the results of the test results, I doubt you want files of those floating around in the world.”

Stiles thinks on how much information WERES actually holds on everyone. His thoughts are interrupted by Deaton.

“Now, quickly back in your vehicle and I will direct you to the entrance we will be using,” Deaton rushes him back to his jeep, “There are a lot of tests we need to run, and I have to go over the results of the blood tests.”

“ ** _Pregnant?_** “ Stiles looks shocked as he says it, clearly not believing it’s possible that Deaton is right, “ _but Der can’t be, we used protection every time_. I didn’t even make the mistake of double-bagging ‘cause I knew it just made it more likely that the rubbers would split open with the friction.”

Scott feels Isaac’s tension rise as their Master’s, their alpha’s, apprehension rises. Scott takes Isaac’s hand in his, he pulls him back against himself; wrapping his arms around him to comfort his pack mate.

“ _Doc, they will take our child from us_ ,” Derek can hear the worry in his Mate’s voice, the fear in his voice, “WERES will only see a fourth slave-pet, as soon as our child is born they’ll be taken from us...”

“Stiles,” Deaton’s voice cuts Stiles’ panicked discourse short as Derek wraps his arms around his alpha. Deaton assures Stiles and Derek, “We will work something out, and we will find a way to keep you all together.”

Scott and Isaac closed in against Derek and their alpha, needing to comfort them, support them, and let ensure that they know their pack is there for them.

“We could terminate the pregnancy,” Derek’s voice is shaky and ragged with stress as he says the words. As soon as they leave him he knows it was a mistake to give voice to the thought. His Master... his mate’s heartbeat pounds and the sourness spiking in his scent lets Derek know he hates the idea before he even speaks.

“No!” Stiles roars, “That is not an option, I will do whatever it is I need to do to keep our child, to keep our pack together whatever it takes we’ll do it, but **not** that.” Derek kisses at the side of Stiles’ neck, nuzzles against his jaw in apology, and relief. The idea of terminating the life inside him was abhorrent.

With the shock of the pregnancy announcement wearing off the fact that it has been the cause of Derek’s daily sickness sinks in, removing the cause of some of Stiles’ anxious worrying. Once the pack is relatively calm again Deaton, with Morrell’s help, begins the remainder of the tests he wants to complete before going over the results of the blood tests and reviewing the comparisons he has already carried out.

There are CT scans, MRI scans, DEXA scans, and more blood is taken tested and compared to previous blood results. Derek is not given the CT scan or the DEXA scan, X-rays are not safe for someone who is pregnant; but the MRI is okay.

Stiles really isn’t sure what Deaton or Morrell are getting from all the scans and tests that they are carrying out. At least Deaton is still assuring him that, while his sister is helping with the tests and works for Newman-McMahon, NMC will not be getting any of the data, or genetic material, that they collect. It’s one of the reasons that Morrell hasn’t brought her _company allocated_ slave-pet. Neither Deaton nor his sister elaborate on what the _other reasons_ are.

It was a few hours later that they sat down to go over the results.

The first thing that Deaton confirmed was that in a couple of weeks, six weeks after Derek’s heat, Deaton will do an ultrasound to check on the baby’s development.

The second thing he told them was that Derek’s current blood tests now were not showing any trace of the aconite from the kibble in his system. The previous blood tests when the Argents sold him to Stiles did show very high levels of the aconite being present. The scan of Derek taken with the MRI was not showing the changes in the brain tissue associated with the effects of the kibble. However, Scott and Isaac’s blood and MRI were both showing the presence of the aconite and the changes in the brain tissue.

Deaton tells them that he believes Stiles immunity to this and possibly other forms of aconite has been passed to Derek through the embryo growing inside him. They are still to complete testing and don’t know if this is temporary or permanent, but currently Derek is not under the effects of the aconite used in the kibble production.

“ ** _Wait!_** “ Stiles interrupts Deaton and Morrell mid flow, “I’m immune to multiple forms of wolfsbane? _When was I tested against multiple forms of wolfsbane?_ ** _And_ aren’t some species of it just as deadly to humans as they are to werewolves?** “

“Yes, some varieties of wolfsbane are as poisonous to humans as they are to werewolves,” Deaton explains, “And I tested you against most of the varieties more commonly used by hunters when you were eighteen months old. Your mother asked me to check if you were in danger if you ever came in contact with them after we knew about the lycanthrope genes in your system. However a child’s immune system is not significantly developed until about twelve months, and may not be fully developed until early teens.

So I was able to persuade her to wait and reconsider testing for a few more months. You became quite seriously ill from one of the more deadly strains, however, your body was able to fight off the effects of every one of the wolfsbane types I tested you with.”

“What?” Stiles can’t believe that his mother wanted him tested for something that may have killed him. Why would she do that?

The drive back to the Stilinski house is in silence as Stiles and his pack absorb the information they have gained from Deaton.

Derek, Scott and Isaac went to the bedroom to change into the sheer pants, already a clear favourite with them, while Stiles went to the kitchen to make something quick for dinner, he was pretty sure they had something frozen that could be quickly re-heated. The sheriff was working a late shift and wouldn’t be back until morning.

Derek could feel Scott and Isaac watching him as he changed. He turned to them as he pulled the sheer pant over his ass to his waist, letting it settle low on his hips.

“ ** _What?_** “ Derek barked at them. He notices when they both jump slightly at his brusque manner and shift nervously where they stand, both naked having removed the shorts they had worn to school but not yet wearing their sheer pants. They flush and look down at the floor.

Derek walks over to them and putting an arm around both pulls them into a hug.

“What’s wrong?” he asks them more calmly, sure that the answer is going to be related to what has him on edge, the results that Deaton gave them, the worry of what is going to happen when WERES find out. Find out that he is pregnant, and find out that he is immune to the effects of the kibble. WERES may not have been aware of the long term effects the kibble had on werewolves, but even the short term intended effects would currently not occur if Derek ate the stuff. Right now they don’t have to. Deaton gave each of them a shot that has put the chemical marker WERES look for in their blood; it should last about six weeks, but Deaton plans to give them a booster shot every month as their Master couldn’t bring himself to feed it to them anymore.

Finally Scott looks up at Derek, his eyes full of doubt and worry.

“Do you feel differently?” Scott asks, Derek must look confused at his question as he continues, “Towards our Master I mean, now that you’re not being affected by the kibble, do you still want him to be your Master?” Scott’s voice got quieter as he spoke, afraid of the words and what they could mean for the pack.

Derek hadn’t consider how he felt. Thinking on it he still loved Stiles, and Stiles was still his Mate. He had always been submissive, it had always been his nature as a delta. But if Deaton was right then the kibble stopped affecting him when he became pregnant, but that was weeks ago. He had been submitting to Stiles for weeks without the kibble in his system, but the past few weeks he had been happier as a submissive than ever before.

He’d been fed the kibble for nearly six years before Stiles bought him, and he had always managed to resist thinking of Kate as his Mistress. He had submitted to her, he had no option, but he resisted her, she had always been able to see the defiance in his eyes as he obeyed. Surely he must have been under the effects of the kibble then. He remembers always feeling groggy and finding it difficult to think rationally, it was easier just to obey. Is that how Scott and Isaac are feeling? _Is that the reason they obey Stiles, because they can’t think not to?_

Derek remembers when he was first delivered to Stiles, he recalls how his _wolf_ revelled in the idea of submitting to him and how _he_ had rebelled. His head was clearer than it had been in years as he woke from the drugged sleep, as if he was not being affected by the kibble. Kate had been the one to inject him with the sedative; _had she used something to counteract the aconite from the kibble? Had she used something that had temporarily blocked the effect making him able to think clearly and disobey? Had she been hoping that he would escape his Master to be caught and returned to her?_

There was no way of Derek ever knowing without asking her directly; even if he could would she answer honestly? And really he doesn’t care, not now, and that thought gives Derek his answer to Scott’s question.

“No, Stiles is still my owner, still my Master, still my alpha, and still my Mate,” Derek says, “I belong to him, _belong with him_ , and always will.” 

“Do you think when I have my heat... do you think if Master gets me pregnant I’ll be cured too?” Isaac timidly asks. Derek bristles at the thought of Stiles getting Isaac pregnant. He’s not had any issue with their Master _playing_ with his pack mates, but he doesn’t like the idea of Stiles impregnating any other wolf. Before Derek can even start to answer, because he is sure that if Stiles did get Isaac pregnant it would cure him ( _not that they know if the effect will be permanent or only while they are carrying their child_ ), Scott vehemently answers Isaac’s question.

“ ** _NO!_** “ Scott’s outburst startles Isaac and Derek, “I mean Master can’t get you pregnant, he’s... he’s Sourwolf’s mate... I mean it wouldn’t be fair of him to... I mean...” Scott trailed off, seemingly having lost his train of thought.

“Scott, are you saying that **_our Master_** shouldn’t have sex with anyone but me?” Derek asks him. It actually surprises Derek that he doesn’t mind his Mate having sex with the other two wolves of their pack, _he actually enjoys seeing his Master, his Mate, taking his other two submissives and their obvious enjoyment of it_. _Having a mate strong enough to dominate an entire pack without even truly being a wolf made his own wolf revel in pride at his mateng strength, practically basking in the knowledge that it had been claimed by such a powerful mate. That he had the honour to bare his masters young._

“No... I mean I like when he uses me like that, or you know... like he did at the weekend,” Scott blushes at the memory and all three can see the effect the thought is having on Scott, “but do you want him to? I’d have thought if you were cured you’d want him to yourself... I mean, before, when I was human, when I thought about this kind of life, when I thought about submitting to Stiles I was the only one submitting to him, I guess I thought you’d want that too, if you still wanted to submit to him that is.” Scott’s voice again gets quieter as he speaks, the fear and worry of losing Stiles, losing his pack, creeping into his voice.

“I like our life together here with our Master as it’s been so far, with him and with both of you” Derek confidently answers, “Don’t you?” At Scott and Isaac’s nod of agreement he adds, “And I think our Master will give Isaac a say in whether he gets pregnant or not; _and_ ** _who_ gets him pregnant**.”

Derek’s words raises Isaac’s spirits, making him feel better about the future after the revelations from Deaton. They worry Scott, he doesn’t want things to change from how they are. _What if Isaac doesn’t want to be part of their pack if the kibble is no longer affecting him? What if doesn’t want to be with them when he is free?_ The thought that he might lose Isaac from their pack makes him feel uneasy about what may come.

As Stiles shouts up to them that dinner is ready they quickly finish dressing in their see-through pants and trek down the stairs to join him in the kitchen.

They are sitting around the dining table.

Well, Stiles is sitting at the dining table with Isaac on his lap, Derek and Scott are kneeling at either side of his chair facing him. Stiles has reheated three bowls of a three bean casserole, Stiles’ bowl is the largest as he is still feeding Isaac from his own plate, something that they both enjoy too much to give up just yet. Derek and Scott are picking at the food from the bowls in their hands; not because they don’t like it, it is rather delicious, but purely down to the thoughts running through everyone’s head.

Stiles is worrying about how Derek being cured is gonna affect their relationship. He remembers how Derek fought against him when he first arrived, and can’t imagine that he will want to submit to him. Lost in his thoughts he has eaten four forkfuls from the bowl before he realises that two of them should have been Isaac’s.

“Sorry Isaac,” he says offering the next heaped fork to him, “I was lost in thought.” Isaac nuzzles against Stiles’ neck after he swallows the mouthful of food before he takes the next.

Stiles sends Scott and Isaac to brush their teeth while he and Derek tidy-up the kitchen.

“Something is worrying you Master,” Derek states as he dries the bowl that Stiles has just washed, “I can feel it in our bond.” Derek’s words stun Stiles.

“Do you mean that?” Stiles asks turning to face Derek with new hope in his eyes.

“The pack bond is stronger between us...” Derek starts to reply.

“No, not about feeling my worry through the bond,” Stiles interrupts his answer, “when you called me _Master_ , do you still mean that even though you’re not being affected by the kibble?”

Derek puts the bowl down, throwing the towel onto his shoulder he takes Stiles face between his hands before replying, “Yes, I still mean that. You will always be my Master, my Alpha and my Mate. I belong to you, and not because WERES says I do; because I want to be yours.”

Stiles wet hands grab the back of Derek’s head and pull him forward until he can take his lips with his own, licking along the crease of them until they open and he can possess Derek’s mouth in his joyous passion. Derek smiles at his Mate as they break apart.

“Though, we will need to be careful in front of the kid when he or she is born,” Derek grins at him, “Explaining why _Uncle Scotty_ is your piss-slave may be difficult.”

“Ha,” Stiles snorts, “I should put you over my knee for sass like that.”

“Is that a promise?” Derek teases in reply.

As they finish tidying the kitchen and putting the dishes away an idea begins to arise in Stiles’ mind; he just needs to formulate a plan to make it reality.

Over the subsequent days their lives follow the same course they have been following. Derek’s morning sickness continues to happen in the afternoon. As he couldn’t leave Derek at home, _it isn’t proper husbandry etiquette to leave a slave-pet unattended_ , there was no way to avoid it being noticed as they would rush to the nearest toilets at school during lunchtime for Derek to throw up whatever he had just eaten. WERES have to be informed that he is pregnant.

They visit on the Thursday morning, calling the night before to confirm. Stiles has to inform the school that he will be late, and his father has called into the station too.

They take blood from each of the slave-pets, and from Stiles too. They don’t explain why when he asks. They also inquire about Isaac, and the progress being made in restoring the delta’s heats. Stiles says that given the extreme malnutrition Isaac had experienced prior to being given to him that he thought they were progressing well towards Isaac going into heat.

After they left Stiles, his wolves, and his father were on edge.

“I gotta run to the station, and you need to get to school,” John Stilinski says as he hugs his son, “look after Derek and my grandkid.” He sees the worry that everyone is showing, he knows he is too, “I’m sure there is nothing to worry about, but I’ll see if I can find out why they were taking your blood too and not just testing Derek’s.”

“I’ll text Deaton about it,” Stiles says, “He might know. Wait!” Stiles suddenly exclaims, “I didn’t say I got Derek pregnant; how did you know it’s my child?”

“Stiles,” his dad’s eyebrows rise in disbelief, “You practically growled at me, telling me that you would take care of him when he went into heat. You kept Scott locked in a chastity pouch the whole week of Derek’s heat. Also, **_I’m the Sheriff_** , I can work these things out.”

There is an official report delivered from WERES the next morning, confirming what they already knew. Derek is indeed pregnant. It also states that the samples taken from Scott and Stiles will be used _to record pedigree and lineage once the slave-pet is born_. They know he didn’t have Isaac until after Derek’s heat, and that he is also a delta, so they are discounting him as possible father of Derek’s cub.

It steels Stiles’ resolve on the course of action he has decided on.

Over the same week leading to the WERES visit to _confirm_ Derek’s pregnancy there are further attacks on kibble factories. Each day there are reports of multiple factories across every state, even other countries, being targeted and destroyed. The fallout from it starts to become apparent less than a week later.

It starts close to the sites of the bombed factories. Some people’s personality starts to change; the change is rapid. Over the course of two or three days they become noticeably more submissive, a few become violently aggressive. Testing shows that these are wild werewolves that have been living undetected within the general population.

It doesn’t remain an occurrence only within the area of a destroyed kibble factory. It spreads out from each site. Not expanding out with the factory at the centre, it’s following a trail, moving north, or south west, or eastward. It isn’t long before someone notices that it’s the wind blowing aconite compound around. The effect of the kibble is now airborne, it is in pockets of the atmosphere and surrounds the planet.

No werewolf is safe.

Stiles had a lot on his mind so he thinks he can be forgiven for almost missing it until Isaac gasped as he lay over his lap.

After all, Stiles still had not devised a plan to make his idea reality. They were taking Derek for the ultrasound scan at Deaton’s this morning, and he had a board meeting for Argents with Allison and Chris in the afternoon.

Isaac was lying across Stiles’ lap, his erection was caught between Stiles’ thighs. Stiles had already spanked Derek and Scott, they were both kneeling and watching as Stiles hand came down on Isaac’s upturned bum. Their own erections sticking out in front of them despite all of them having been fucked by Stiles until they came during their morning shower.

Isaac had moaned loudly as Stiles had worked his lube covered fingers into him for the first time. He had begged Stiles to take him as he had taken Derek and Scott, to show him that his Master loved him just as much as he loved his other two wolves. Stiles couldn’t say no to his youngest pup. Isaac had leaned forward against the tiled wall of the shower, resting his head on his arms crossed in front of him on the wall, his ass pushed out behind him towards Stiles. He had shivered in anticipation as Stiles’ fingers had brushed over his hole, teasing him with their touch. Stiles had dribbled the lube into the crease of Isaac’s bum and watched as the cold liquid slid down over the wrinkled flesh. He drew his fingers up over the ring of muscle, gently pushing the clear gel against the flesh and into the entrance. His fingers met the resistance of the tight hole as slowly forced their way into the warmth of Isaac’s body. Adding more lubricant he picked up the pace of his thrusting digits in and out, as Isaac relaxed against his intrusion Stiles added a third and then fourth dextrous digit before covering his rigid cock in latex and sliding into him.

Neither of them lasted long, despite it being Stile’s third that morning. And now Isaac is hard again as Stiles spanks him intensely, colouring his ass from pink to red. At first Stiles thought that it was the lube he had used during the fuck in the shower. Except Isaac had cleaned himself and had been dry when Stiles had started to spank him, and there was too much of it leaking from Isaac’s ass down over his balls and onto Stiles’ leg. Then the scent of it hit him among the lemon scent permeating the room.

“Master...” Isaac gasped, “Master... I’m wet... you’ve made me wet Master.”

Stiles pulls Isaac up to sit astride his lap pulling him down into a kiss. There’s a low whine from behind Isaac that Stiles is sure is Scott, but he ignores that for now as Isaac smiles down at him.

“Are you happy Isaac?” Stiles asks him, he needs to know that his pup is pleased be able to self-lubricate again. It has to mean that his heat is not far away. Stiles had missed all the signs with Derek, but then again he hadn’t been looking for them.

“Yes Master,” Isaac smiles down at him as he replies, “I have a pack, I have my alpha, you Master, and you’re giving me back my life, like I was before.”

“How does it feel pup to know that your body is getting ready to be bred, preparing you to have babies?” Stiles asks him.

Isaac moans against his ear. Stiles doesn’t need him to answer, he can feel the increase in the slick from his wet hole.

At Deaton’s clinic he carries out an examination on Isaac first to make sure that he is still gaining weight. He is already looking far healthier than when Deaton first examined him. His ribs no-longer visible under his skin, his scars and bruising healed with only the visible colouring of his morning spanking showing. Deaton declares that Isaac is making excellent progress.

Derek’s ultrasound scan brings another surprise. Derek is carrying twins.

It will be a few more weeks before Deaton will be able to tell if they are identical or fraternal twins. It is usually not until between weeks nine and fourteen that the ultrasound will show if they are sharing a placenta. Around the same time it should be possible to tell the sex of the cubs, but neither Derek nor Stiles wants to know.

The Argent’s meeting is mostly just progress updates on the restructure and the planned movement of slave-pet stock around the country to the different facilities. Either the competitors that have bought breeding stock or the sellable slave-pets that Argent’s will retain moving from the facilities that have been sold to the training and housing facilities they still hold.

Stiles takes careful note of the schedule movements to pass on to Deaton; it was what he was here for in the first place.

Chris asks for an update on Stiles’ progress with Isaac as the four weeks are now nearly up and several potential clients are eager to know if he has been able to replicate the success he had with Derek. Stiles lets them know that Isaac has already started self-lubricating when aroused and that they expect the first signs of his heat to begin within the next week or two.

“Excellent,” Chris beams, clearly pleased that there is potential to get the family business back to being a major player in the slave-pet industry.

“There is one more point of business that I should let you know,” Chris says, “There was a request from a customer at the store in Bellingham, Washington, who bought a female slave-pet from us a year ago, he was looking to breed her, but I think I’m going to have to tell him we can’t help. He specifically wants a stud that is a born wolf, blond, athletic, but none of the born wolves we have in stock meet the requirements. The only blonds we have that are close enough to his criteria were bitten.”

“I think I may be able to persuade an owner of a blond born wolf to loan out his slave-pet for us to use,” Stiles says.

“Danny will never loan out Jackson,” Allison looks surprised that Stiles is even considering asking him.

“Let me talk to him,” Stiles smiles back at her, “there’s no harm in sounding him out on the option, offer him ten percent of the fee, it must be better than a customer going to one of our competitors when this is part of the market we are looking to move into.”

“Okay,” Chris decides, “Talk to him, I’ll hold off on replying to the customer for a couple of days.”

It is two days later that Stiles is finally able to talk to Danny.

Two days during which there are more reports on the movement of the fallout from the bombing of the kibble factories, the trail of affected werewolves revealed by the aconite compound in the air. There have been no more attacks on few remaining kibble factories.

Danny and Jackson come over to Stiles an hour after school finishes. Stiles hadn’t expected that his dad would be home

There’s a tension to the way Danny holds himself, and Jackson seems more nervous. Stiles knows from talking with Danny that he is concerned about the aconite clouds and the affects they are having on werewolves; there are increasing rumours that they can further affect werewolves that already show symptoms from the kibble, making them more like docile pets and less capable of rational thought. His dad being here is what is making Stiles nervous; he hasn’t mentioned any of what he’s about to talk about with them to his dad yet. And he knows his dad isn’t going to like it.

“So...” everyone looks up at him as he’s standing in the middle of the living room. He was already nervous and with everyone’s expression clearly showing expectations of something more akin to salvation than what he is about to give voice to. How did this become his life?

“Yeah, so...” Stiles starts to pace back and forth, seriously, talking is what he’s known for, mouthing off and not knowing when to shut up, it’s a thing he can do like breathing, it really shouldn’t be this hard.

“Spit it out Stiles,” his dad finally says, “it’s not like you to have a problem with not knowing what to say.”

“It’s usually not knowing what not to say,” Danny adds. That earns him a glare from Stiles, and Derek.

“ _RRRiiiiiiight_ ,” Stiles eyes narrowing as he rolls the ‘R’ and pulls out the vowel before biting off the ‘t’, “ _so_ , Argent’s has a customer that is looking to breed the female slave-pet that they bought from them a year ago, and they have a very specific set of criteria for the male they want as the stud to service her. He has to be athletic, he has to be a born wolf and he has to be a natural blond...”

“ **NO** ,” Danny cuts him off, leaping to his feet from where he has been sitting, “ ** _You cannot be seriously asking..._** “

“ ** _No_** , that is not what I’m asking” Stiles says, “ **But** , the customer in question just so happens to be in Bellingham, _a thirty minute drive to the border_. What I’m suggesting is that we say you’re going to stud Jackson with her and when we get to Bellingham we just make a run for the border. I know everyone at school thinks I used Scotty as the stud to breed Derek, but I didn’t. I’m Derek’s mate, it’s my twins that he is carrying and we can’t stay here and let WERES take our family away from us. Dad, we need to find some reason for you to go with us, I was thinking that with the school break coming up if we arranged to travel up...”

“ ** _No_** ,” his dad interrupts, he’s not looking up Stiles; he’s looking at the carpet beneath his feet.

“ _What?_ “ Stiles asks his voice nearly breaking, why wouldn’t his dad go with him? He’s hasn’t thought up a reason for him to be there yet, but he has to be there, he has to make a run for the border with them, he can’t leave his dad behind.

“I _can’t_ Stiles, “if I go that close to the border with you it will raise alarms within WERES, they would be suspicious of a whole family that close to the border with their slave-pets; you’d never make it across. You, Derek, Scott and Isaac need to get across the border and my grandkids need to be born free. You need to be able to live your lives together the way you want, not the way they dictate you can, but I can’t leave with you.”

“ _But_...”

“I’ll be fine,” neither of them can hold back the dampness at their eyes, “your mother would be so proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

Stiles doesn’t sleep well that night. He and his dad had hugged and cried, but nothing that Stiles said could get his dad to change his mind. Danny had relaxed after Stiles had said he planned to sneak across the border to Canada. After the bombings and the sudden rise in werewolves being affected by the kibble in the air he wanted to... needed to get Jackson to freedom. He’d seen reports on some internet sites that suggested the Canadians were trying to help werewolves that had been affected by the kibble cope with the condition it caused, and lead as independent lives as possible. Danny wanted Jackson to have that chance.

Chris Argent had been ecstatic when Stiles had called with the news that Danny would offer Jackson’s services as stud for ten per cent of the fee and Argent’s picking up the travel expenses. He asked Chris to make the arrangements for Danny and him, and their slave-pets, to travel up to Bellingham the first week of the school break.

Stiles lay awake most of the night with his pack clinging tightly to him. They seemed unable to sleep too.

Derek wanted to advise his Master against the plan, but he knew it was the only chance that he and his Mate had to live their life together with their cubs.

Deaton was surprised to see her at his clinic, they tried to keep the fact they knew each other, let alone related, from being general knowledge.

“What are you doing here?” his voice not quite its usual calm.

“Alan, we need to talk,” Morrell replies brusquely, “in private.”

Deaton leads her into the office at the back of the clinic and closes the door behind her.

“I finally managed to track down the experiment that NMC were carrying out on Deucalion at the time he ‘ _escaped_ ‘ and attacked Claudia Stilinski,” she says in hushed tones as soon as the door closes.

“What were they doing?” her brother asks, his brow knitted enquiringly, “I thought it was related to NMC trying to create a dry food for alphas.”

“That’s what they said at the time, but it was just a cover story. They were working a formulation to heighten an alpha instincts, they had intended to take semen from him and artificially inseminate human eggs. They hoped to create an alpha human that could command a squad of werewolf soldiers; a human that would have the strengths of a werewolf but none of the weaknesses.”

Deaton doesn’t reply, too lost in thought over what this means for the results he has seen in Stiles’ blood.

“Alan, I _saw_ Stilinski’s blood work,” Morrell says, “ _He is becoming what they were trying to create_. But there’s more to it than that, six years ago when his father took him to see a specialist about his ADHD, it was actually a medical practice that is owned by NMC, they used the appointment as a cover to inject a new formulation of the serum, they had used genetic material from Talia Hale. Alan, _NMC have been keeping track of Stilinski, the attack on his mother can’t have been an accident and they must know that he isn’t entirely human_.”

“We need to be careful,” Deaton replies once he had thought through the implications, “they cannot find out about Derek’s immunity.”

“You know that there is no way that it is just temporary don’t you,” his sister accuses, she saw the same test results and could read them as well as her brother, “Why didn’t you tell them? Stilinski and the Hale boy are the key to freeing the werewolves.”

“We don’t know that, we don’t know that it could be repeated, and if certain people find out it will get them killed, it could lead to war. Or genocide.”

Stiles is more than happy when Chris Argent’s plan travel with them to meet the customer fall through. A problem that requires him to visit one of the facilities near Salt Lake City, related to the transfer of slave-pets from one of the eastern training sites that were sold. Stiles didn’t pay a lot of attention, he was too relieved. It gave them an excuse for his dad to be going with them.

Stiles’ dad tried to re-arrange things at the station. Given the short notice that Chris was not going to be travelling with two high school students across state, with their slave-pets, it would be less suspicious for him to step in at the last minute. But he couldn’t arrange the cover for the duration of the trip, there just wasn’t the personnel to make it work, and if he just didn’t appear that would be suspicious. It meant that Danny, Jackson, Stiles and his pack would be alone.

The plan was all set. They were taking the train to San Francisco, then flying from there to Seattle.

There would be a rental car waiting for them when they arrived, a hybrid that had seven seats had been Stiles’ only requests. They would then drive to the hotel and check-in, and were scheduled to meet the client the next day. They would stay in the hotel overnight, and leave after breakfast to drive the hour or so to Bellingham to meet the client. Only they would head to the border instead leaving their luggage, and everything else, behind.

Before the checked into the hotel though Stiles had one stop he planned to make. He had a surprise in store for one of his pack, if his information was correct.

Stiles settled back in the seat as the train prepared to depart. Danny was sitting across from him and their wolves were keeling on the floor between them. Slave-pets were not allowed on the seats of the train. Thankfully they _had_ to have seats on the plane.

Stiles couldn’t wait to start their new life, free to be together in Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ### Excerpts from 'A New Hope'
> 
> ####  Coming in 2014
> 
> Scott couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in the clothes. He didn’t know why he and the rest of the pack were being forced to wear them, Jackson, Derek and Isaac all looked just as awkward as he felt. As the car pulled up outside a small townhouse in Seattle he could feel Stiles’ heart rate spike.  
> “Okay, I hope this is the right address,” Stiles said as he got out of the car, “come on.”  
> Everyone took their cue and followed Stiles up the path to the door, he knocked loudly. After a few moments he was about to knock again when the door opened.  
> “Hi…” Stiles didn’t get to say another word as a fist smacked him right on the nose.
> 
> \--
> 
> Stiles is sitting in the cell looking through the bars across at Danny sitting in the cell opposite. He can see Danny clearly, sitting with his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the floor. The feeling of defeat evident in the slumped shoulders and bowed head.
> 
> \--
> 
> “I want my Mate, take me to Stiles NOW,” Derek roared at her, she sat staring at him. Her expression impassive.  
> “That’s not going to happen and you know it,” she calmly stated, “You and the other werewolves you were with will never see those former owners again.”


	16. A New Hope - Chapter-01

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not actually another chapter of 'A Doggy of my Own', this is the first chapter of the sequel 'A New Hope'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first prequel to A Doggy of my Own is now posted [The Enslavement of Scott McCall](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1000139).  
> The second prequel to A Doggy of my Own is now posted [The Training of Jackson Whittemore](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1018002).  
> 

Stiles ignored the stares that he and his pack ( _and he was surprised to realise he was including Danny and Jackson in that group_ ) were receiving as they walked through the airport after collecting their bags. The first stop had been to the toilets where he had Derek, Scott, Isaac and Jackson dress in actual clothes; just jeans, a shirt and a pair of sneakers, but it would do for now. Though, he had to admit, if only to himself, it was the cause of the attention they were getting now; four collared, _and clothed_ , slave-pets certainly stood out, but he wouldn’t make their next stop without them being fully clothed.

He hadn’t expected any arguments from his wolves about getting dressed. He had assumed they would be happy to wear regular clothes or at least something that didn’t make it look like they just stepped off the set of a porno movie. No, it just couldn’t be that straightforward.

_ Stiles dispensed the clothes to the wolves when they closed the door to the bathroom behind them; he looked at them expecting to see happy smiling faces. Well, Jackson could be happy but, it's kinda hard to tell when his face moves less than Kristen Stewart. He just looks at Danny expectantly and when he doesn’t object Jackson starts pulling on the pants. Scott and Isaac look like he is making them do something heinous, both of them scowling and casting hateful glances at him while they dress. Derek looks at them like he doesn’t know what they are. _

_ “What are these?” Derek asks, his eyebrows pulled into a scowl in the middle of his brow, as he holds the pair of denim jeans out at arm’s length from him. Stiles just doesn’t get what the problem is. _

_“Those are pants Derek,” he retorts, “They go over your ass, I know it’s been awhile since you’ve worn them, but we both know that you still know what pants are, and how to put them own. I’ve seen how you watch me, eyes tracking my every movement, when I get dressed for school or when we go to the park, so I know you haven’t forgotten how to put them on either. Speaking of which, by the way, it would be great if you could start dressing any time now so that the four of you are dressed and we can be on our way_ **_before_** _someone else comes in here_.” 

_“Yes, I do know what pants are. What I don’t know is why_ **_we_** ,”Derek’s scowl has deepened as he waves his arm between Scott, Isaac, Jackson and himself, “ _Are getting dressed? It will only draw more attention to us.”_

_ “Derek,” Stiles pauses as the door to the bathroom opens and a security guard walks in. _

_ “Everything alright in here?” the guard asks, “You do realise that these facilities are only for humans, not slave-pets?” _

_ “Our slave-pets are not using the facilities,” Stiles coldly answers, “We are using them to get our pets in some clothing so they don’t get their sweat all over my rental car, getting it all sweaty and filthy. That way I won’t be paying extra for a deep clean when we return it.” _

_“_ **_Now_** ,” _he growls as he turns back to Derek, “Get those on before I_ _drag you to the lobby and spank you red for everyone to watch.” Derek freezes and takes a moment to process Stiles’ words, Stiles know he likes to be spanked but publicly is probably not something he’s ready for or would want, before he is quickly pulling on the jeans. Although, as Stiles see’s Derek covering up his rapidly thickening cock, maybe he’s wrong, maybe being spanked in public is something that Derek would want after all._

So, after taking far longer to get the wolves dressed than he had anticipated they are finally heading to the car rental desk; all four slave-pets dressed in regular clothes, and while they look uncomfortable under the stares of public, Stiles ignores it. He is not letting the judge-y stares get to him at all as he strides up to the desk and rings the bell. Not one bit.

“We have a reservation under Stilinski,” Stiles says to the guy behind the desk, ignoring his gaze slipping to the wolves behind him, “It was booked through the company, Argent Pet Supplies...” He snaps his fingers to get the guys attention back to him.

"Yes sir, we have your reservation right here,” he says tapping furiously on the keyboard, “Let's see...a seven seat hybrid? And you're in luck we still have the car you requested.”

“Yeah, Argent’s should have pre-paid and have a credit card on file, any additional costs are to be charged back to them. Mr Mahealani should be registered as the additional driver; I trust everything is in order.” 

"Yes sir, we have your license information on file already, everything seems to be in order, have a wonderful day Mr. Stilinski."

Rushing the guy through all the checks seemed to have been the best choice, hopefully his brusque manner and fast talking was enough to keep him from noticing that neither driver is over twenty-one as they should be, and as their rental agreement claims.

Soon enough they are loading their bags into the trunk, and once the four wolves are safely buckled up in the back Stiles starts driving to their destination. As they pull out onto the I-5 headed north Danny let out a breath.

“Jeez, Stiles, I can’t believe that worked; I kept expecting them to come running after us. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous. You might be the worst liar ever,” Danny half-laughed as he looked over at him.

“ **Rude**! I had it under control,” Stiles lies, and he knows the wolves picked it up, “Nothing to be nervous about.”

“You are so full of shit,” Danny laughs. “Yeah,” Danny smirks, “Like you weren’t worried, talking so fast and twitching so much was all part of your plan; I’m just happy it worked in our favour.” 

“Nice job hacking their system, makes convincing them we're over twenty-one a bit easier,” Stiles says.

“Thanks,” Danny replies, then a little more soberly adds, “Now we just need to find a way to actually cross the border.”

“That’s for tomorrow,” Stiles smiles, trying to keep his own nervousness out of his voice, “Tonight we have a blast at the hotel all paid for by Argent Pet Supplies.” After one little surprise stop, he thinks to himself.

Scott couldn’t help but pull at the collar of the shirt and the leg of the jeans; after so many months of becoming used to being naked he feels uncomfortable in the clothes. He still didn’t know why he and the rest of the pack were being forced to wear them, Jackson, Derek and Isaac all looked just as awkward as he felt.

The drive from the airport was only about twenty minutes and the car was pulling up outside a small townhouse in Seattle; he thought they were headed to a hotel. As Stiles switched the engine off Scott could feel Stiles’ heart rate spike, “Something wrong?”

“No, nothing wrong,” Stiles answers, “Okay, well, I hope this is the right address,” Stiles said as he got out of the car, “come on.”

Everyone took their cue and followed Stiles up the path to the door, he knocked loudly. After a few moments he was about to knock again when the door opened.

“Hi…” Stiles didn’t get to say another word as a fist smacked him right on the nose.

“Stiles… **_Mom?_** ” Scott couldn’t quite believe his eyes, his mom was standing there in the doorway of the house; and she had just punched his master.

The moment caught up with him, and he realised what he was seeing. He was standing in front of his mom; his master had found his mom, and brought him here to see her. He felt the tears well in his eyes, “ _Mom?_ ”

“Scott?” she covered her mouth with her hand, the shock and joy and disbelief flitting through her eyes momentarily before she pushes forward and pulls him into a hug so tight.

He nuzzles against her neck, taking in her scent and the feel of her hair against his cheek; everything so familiar, as if they were still a family back in Beacon Hills before… the thought making his tears fall. She keeps repeating his name as he holds him, as if fearful he may disappear; the whine is pulled from him before he can hold it back, because tomorrow he will.

“You know, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to take this inside,” he hears Stiles suggest. His mom pulls back from him, wiping at her eyes with her hands. Stiles follows up with, “The lounge might be more comfortable.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she says as she steps inside, and his pack quickly follows.

“Well…” Stiles starts as he sits, noticing the hesitancy of his pack, clearly not sure where they should sit; how they should behave around Scott’s mom, “Guys, sit down,” he says patting the space beside him on the couch; Derek immediately takes the seat beside him. Isaac copies Jackson, who is sitting at Danny’s feet, by sitting on the floor between himself and Derek, and Scott settles beside him.

“You know I think that Scott’s mom has more chairs, and I don’t think she will object to you using them,” he says, only for Isaac and Scott to give him the sad puppy look at his suggestion, “Fine, whatever; why **_wouldn’t_** you all be happier sitting on the floor.”

“You’ve got some explaining to do Stiles,” Melissa rounded on him as soon as everyone was seated, her anger at him and distrust of him clear in her tone, “What the hell gives you the right to be here after the misery you caused? And what are you doing with Scott?”

“He’s my Master,” Scott answers, and Stiles can tell he is somehow confused at her anger towards him.

“ _He’s your **what?**_ ” she gasps, and Stiles can see her rage begin to burn before she screams at him, “ ** _Wasn’t it bad enough you dragged him out into woods to get bitten?_** ” her tears falling as she continues, almost screaming at him, “ ** _Wasn’t it enough that you ripped him from his family? That you ruined his life in every way possible? That you took my son from me?_** ”

And Stiles can’t answer her, can’t defend himself; what could he say? Nothing. Not when it is everything he has ever thought himself, berated himself for, and knows that nothing can ever make up for causing him to be bitten, for not being able to save him when WERES came to the school and took him and Jackson.

“ **NO!** ” Scott screams, and Stiles hears the low growl emanating from Derek and Isaac as Scott says, “He didn’t drag me anywhere, he isn’t responsible for me being out there; I am.”

“Scott,” Stiles says, intending to tell him he knows Scott’s mom is right.

“No,” Scott interrupts him, “We had this discussion before, when you got me; I know you feel responsible, that you feel you should have done more to protect me. You feel that way about everyone you care about; that you need to protect them, be responsible for them. But what more could you have done?”

"Scott I know you don't blame me,” Stiles says quietly, “But that doesn't mean your mom is wrong.” He looks over at Scott to see his brow crinkled in confusion, “Do you remember when you told me that you always had a choice, and that you chose to do what made me happy? I didn't really appreciate it at the time Scott, but part of making decisions for someone means putting their wellbeing before your own. You needed me to put your best interests before my own Scotty, and I didn’t do that. But I promise you I will always do that now.”

“ ** _That’s crazy!_** ” Stiles’ eyes widen at Scott’s outburst, “You tried to help me and Jackson escape as soon as you found out we were werewolves, and when weres took me from Allison you made sure to keep me so I had a pack. What more could you have done?”

“ _You tried to help them escape?_ ” Melissa asks, “But everyone said you _stopped them escaping_ , or that you _tried to_ until they overpowered you and locked you in a cupboard.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because the idiots did overpower me and lock me in a cupboard; we were on the way to my jeep at the time. Like the Spanish Inquisition, no one expects two werewolves to ambush the guy trying to help them escape; morons,” Stiles says with a smirk at his best friend as he runs his fingers through his hair. He can tell that Scott has a smile on his face as he rubs his cheek against his leg.

“Until the Argents and WEREs turned up I didn’t even know Scott had been bitten,” Stiles quietly tells her, “If I had we would have been halfway to Canada the day after he was bitten.”

“How could you have kept this from me?” she asks turning to Scott, tears in her eyes as she kneels on the floor beside him, pulling him into another hug, “Why? You should have **_told_** **_me_**. How could you be so stupid? I could have done something to protect you, I could have moved us up here and arranged to sneak across the border…”

Stiles smiles as he recalls a similar conversation that he and Scott had on the day that he became his legal owner.

_ The water cascaded down Scott’s back, Stiles hands resting in the curve above his back. Their foreheads touching as Scott whispers the words against his lips, “You’ll be the awesomest Master.” _

_ Stiles hopes the water raining down on them from the showerhead will hide his tears; hopes that maybe Scott isn’t quite capable yet of picking up on all the other tell-tale signs, his heartbeat, his scent, the dilation of his pupils, the hope dashed when he sees the questioning look in Scott’s eyes. _

_ “I’m the worst best friend,” he replies, “I never noticed what was going on with you; looking back now I can see, and I don’t know how I missed it. How jumpy you were the day after we went out looking for the body, how good you were on at lacrosse practice; I should have noticed Scotty, and I didn’t.” _

_ “No…” _

_ “Yes, if I was any sort of friend I would have noticed, and I could have helped, come up with some way to protect you…” _

_ “No, I didn’t want you to know…” _

_ “But we told each other everything, didn’t we? You could have trusted me.” _

_ “… I wanted to protect you,” Scott waivers as he replies, “If WERES thought you knew, that you were helping to hide me being a slave-pet they would have charged you and your dad, he’d have lost his job; I couldn’t tell my mom either, I couldn’t let the people I cared about, the people I loved, be in any more danger because of what I am.” _

_ "What you are is my best friend...no, you’re more than that Scotty, you're my brother. I would die for you a hundred times over. Will you trust me to take care of you from now on? No more secrets." _

_ "No more secrets, I love you master." _

“ ** _What exactly is going on?_** ” Melissa asks, the stern tone of her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He looks up to see his wolves looking sheepishly to the ground as Melissa looks from one to another of them.

“What did I miss?” Stiles asks, feeling his eyebrows rise as he looks around at everyone, “And can we maybe move from the hallway into the lounge?” He sees Melissa roll her eyes at him.

“I was saying to my **_son_** ,” Stiles winces at the way she bit off the word as she said it, “That if I had known I might have been able to arrange for us to sneak across the border; then I noticed the nervous looks everyone was giving each other; so, _Stiles_ , what is going on?”

“Funny you should ask actually, ‘cause we’re sneaking across the border; tomorrow,” he replies smiling at her, “Wanna come along?”

“ ** _Are you_** **_completely insane?_** ” she wails at him, “How are you going to sneak **_six_** of you past the border patrols? _And why now_?”

"It won’t be as complicated as it sounds. Getting close to the border with them is half the battle, and that's already taken care of. WERES approved us using Jackson as a stud for a slave-pet within half an hour of the border. It's not a guarantee but Canada has never turned away werewolf refugees. They've stayed neutral in the past but with the invasion into Alaska I figure border tensions may play in our favour. The Canadians won't care if we cross the border illegally. The border is nearly four thousand miles long, excluding Alaska, the guys on this side of it can’t patrol the whole thing. You wouldn’t even know it was there if it wasn’t for the twenty feet of clear cut trees and wilderness…”

“Stiles,” Melissa says drawing his attention back to her and the question he was about to answer.

“Yes, sorry, babbling… right, why now? Well…” he thinks for a moment, taking Derek’s hand as he tries to decide where to start, “The main thing is Derek and I are expecting…”

“Expecting?” Melissa immediately interrupts him, “Wait… Derek is the delta that went into heat? I’d heard a rumour…”

“It’s no rumour, he’s carrying our twins, and I won’t have my family raised as slaves. Why don’t I start at the beginning?”

He wants to explain everything, as best he can. Some of it not even his pack will have heard before; certainly not Danny and Jackson.

”I always wanted a ‘slave-pet’, but not for the reasons most people do,” he starts, the emotion already creeping into his voice, “I thought that if I could find one werewolf that I could give as normal a life as possible it would be worth it; it was all I thought about, but it never happened.”

“After Scott was bitten and taken by the Argents and WERES I knew that I didn’t want Scott to go through all that I saw other werewolves endure; not after I caused him to be bit. It seemed perfect, I could save my best friend, make sure he was happy and keep him safe. I just needed dad to sign the papers, but he flat out refused to let me buy Scotty,” Stiles knows that he and Scott have talked about it since he came to live with them, but he can feel the tears in his eyes, as he continues, “I… I’m sorry if you thought I didn’t want you, but I wanted you more than I wanted anything Scotty.”

“I don’t think my dad and I ever fought that bad before, we didn’t speak for weeks. We only started talking again when he agreed that I could have a slave pet, as long as it wasn’t Scott. I was still angry, but things did start to get better between us. That’s when Lydia showed up. I can only speculate how Lydia Martin had gotten hold of my WERES psychological assessment and exam scores,” when he looks across at Danny he at least has the decency to look guilty.

“Lydia told me that she was looking for someone to help with a little project, and that if I was interested to meet her at Deaton’s. I thought she was talking about a school project; at Deaton’s I found out how wrong I was.”

“It was Deaton who told me that ‘Ms Martin’ had checked his WERES assessment and found me to be the best person for the job,” he tries to keep the sneering tone from his voice, but Stiles is sure he fails, “That given the results of the tests he carried out for my mom after she was attacked he was sure that I would help them; telling me how they really needed me to help them, it would be better for everyone if they succeeded. This was how I found out I was not exactly human, and not exactly wolf.”

He pauses briefly as considers how to continue.

“So, I knew that if I was to interact with the Argents and infiltrate the Argent Pet Empire to feed Deaton and his little local cell of the werewolf rights group information I couldn’t be myself. I had to act like every other slave-pet owner. I had to buy a slave-pet he could treat like that, one that I wouldn’t care so much about. So I bought werewolf with the meanest, gruffest look and the sourest disposition. I bought Sourwolf,” Stiles is stopped by Derek’s snort of laughter and turns to stare at him.

“Sorry,” Derek says looking sheepish, “But if how you treated me when you first bought me is how badly you thought other owners treat their werewolves, I have to tell you it was far better than best I was treated by Kate Argent; it was better than how I’d seen any other werewolf treated.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “My plan went awry. I fell in love with Derek, I also ended up owning Scott, and then when I had to let WERES know about Derek being a delta and having his heat they arranged for me to get Isaac, to see if I could cause another delta to have their heat; but they aren’t my pets, they are my pack.”

“And now Isaac is getting close to his heat. My pack is getting ready to start a family. I need to know they are protected and safe.”

There is silence when he finishes, he can see Melissa thinking through what he has just revealed.

“Deaton arranged the job I have here, it’s at werewolf clinic, one where actual doctors and nurses treat them instead of a veterinary nurse or doctor,” Melissa reveals, her voice startling Stiles in the silence, but her next words shock him more, “I was part of the wolf rights cell in Beacon Hills. I can’t believe he would risk the life of a teenager, **_what the hell was he thinking?_** ” 

Melissa is out of the chair and pacing the room in her anger, “He’s lucky Claudia isn’t here to see what he did; she would have ripped his throat out, _with her teeth_ , for what he has done,” she says turning to Stiles, he’s shocked to hear his mom talked of being capable of doing something so violent, “After all the effort we went to covering up that she was turned by the bite. Deaton throws it all away for his own agenda.”

“My mom was a werewolf?” Stiles sits there stunned by Melissa’s statement.

“Deaton didn’t tell you?” Melissa stops her pacing and turns on the spot to face him, “Typical of the man to give you part of the story and not everything.”

“Yeah, he only mentioned that despite the results of the WERES blood test I _kinda_ wasn’t entirely human,” Stiles half laughs; edging close to hysterics. This was supposed to be a reunion for Scott and his mom, not a revelation of Stilinski family secrets. _He’d never understood why his mom wanted the tests Deaton carried out on him, it never made sense when she wasn’t bitten, she’d only been attacked, scratched with claws not with the alpha’s big sharp teeth._

“I need some air,” he blurts out, turning to look at Melissa before continuing, “Why don’t I take everyone else out back into your garden, to enjoy the early morning sun, while Scott and you catch up?” He rises out of the seat and everybody follows suit.

He sits on the garden bench; Derek rubbing soothing circles on his back as Isaac rubs against him, cheek to cheek. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his racing thoughts; _how did his mom keep hidden the fact that she was a werewolf until she died? How much was Deaton and Melissa involved in that? What were the implications of it for the changes that were occurring in his DNA? What is he?_

Now more than ever he knew that he had to get his pack to Canada. It was the only way he could be sure to protect them.

“You’re looking well,” Melissa says, not taking her eyes off her son, the son she didn’t think she would ever see again.

“I’m fine,” Scott smiles, “Better now that I’m with Stiles, and Derek and Isaac.”

The thought crosses her mind that he could be thinking that purely due to the werewolf kibble.

“He feeding you right?” she finds herself asking.

“Sure.”

And she knows he’s hiding something, Scott was never a good liar, and a mother knows the look that crossed his face. _It makes her wonder again at how she missed it those weeks after he bitten, or did she just mistake what was being hidden from her after finding Scott and Jackson in bed together. Knowing what she does now changes her interpretation of that day._

“Scott, what aren’t you telling me?” she asks using he stern, concerned mother tone; she sees the worry that crosses his face and is suddenly expecting the worst.

“ _You can’t tell anyone_ ,” he says earnestly, “ _Promise_.”

“Okay,” she easily says. She’ll decide after he has told her whether to keep that promise.

“Master,” she bristles at her son calling his _best friend_ **_that_** , “He feeds us the same food he eats; even before he knew about the effects of kibble he only gave us what he needed to, after he wouldn’t let us eat it at all, we only ate the same food as he and his dad ate.”

“What do you mean he wouldn’t let you?” she asks confused by what Scott has said, “Did you want to eat it?”

“ **NO** , _but we had too_ ; if WERES tested us and found we haven’t been eating it they would take us away from Stiles,” his reply filled with panic at the thought as he looks guiltily to the floor, “So, we’d sneak down to the kitchen when he was asleep and eat some.” She can’t contain the laugh that escapes at the thought of three werewolves lying to their owner and sneaking into the kitchen because they wanted to eat kibble.

“Sorry,” she says noticing Scott’s puzzled look at her laughing, “I just can’t get over the image of the three of you sneaking out of bed to go eat that stuff.”

“Yeah,” Scott smirks, “We always had the competition between us to see who could come up with the most convincing thing that would make it taste better,” she sees the wistful look come over his face, “None of ever did,” her joking, smiling son is suddenly replaced with the apprehensive and haunted one.

“We didn’t want WERES to take us from him. I didn’t want someone like Allison’s mom owning me; I like being owned by Stiles, he looks after us. We read, we talk, we play Call of Duty; we never sleep in the cage, but sleep right beside him. He’s the perfect master. He’s our alpha.”

“Oh Scott,” she wraps her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

They leave Melissa’s after arranging to meet tomorrow morning to head to Bellingham, and onto the border.

Stiles drives them straight to the hotel, they check-in and are shown up to their joining rooms. The cages are set against the wall opposite the bed; three small cages that together are barely the size of the bed.

As they are settling into the room Isaac suddenly whimpers and gasps as he slumps against one of the chairs. As Stiles walks towards him to check that he is alright Scott is suddenly placing himself between Isaac and anyone else.

“ ** _Mine_** ,” Scott snarls at Stiles.

Stiles knows what is wrong with Isaac; his heat has arrived with perfect timing. Not. And he can’t let Scott just claim him; not with without Isaac giving his consent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first sequel to A Doggy of my Own is now posted [A New Hope](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1380847).  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> There are several stories I am working on. So please comment if this is one that you like; comments help me focus when I'm being pulled in different directions by thoughts jumping from one story to another.


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